


To the North and Back

by Sarah_Black



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Blow Jobs in a Car, Butt Plugs, Consensual Kink, Deepthroating, Dirty Thoughts, Double Penetration, Embarrassment Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Older Man/Younger Woman, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Pride and Prejudice References, Resolved Sexual Tension, Road Trips, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex Shop, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sex in a Car, Sexting, Sexual Fantasy, Sharing a Bed, Shovel Talk, Spanking, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wet Clothing, boner angst, teacher-student role play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:05:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 94,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6838375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/pseuds/Sarah_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Stannis!” she exclaimed, trying to make her voice sound familiar and affectionate. She knew Harry’s type. He would not leave her alone unless he thought she was already in the ‘possession’ of another man. Hopefully Stannis would recognise her and play along.</i>
</p><p>Fake relationships, road trips, and lots of kinky sex. (Eventually.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. North-bound

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, a big thank you to [Tommyginger](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Tommyginger/pseuds/Tommyginger) for being an awesome cheerleader and convincing me to post this. You are the best. ♥
> 
> Second, I would like to ask you guys to pay attention to the tags. I'll be adding more as I post the chapters. I'll be exploring more kinky territory than I have before, and while I promise everything will be consensual and enjoyable for the participants, it might not be everyone's cup of tea.
> 
> Third, I tag this as porn with plot for a reason. (Note how the porn comes first, and the plot second. Haha.) That said, the first half of the fic is basically UST.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own GRRM's characters. I make no money from this.

“Stannis? Are you there? Hello?”

Stannis kept silent. He stared at his phone, blinking furiously as he tried to collect his thoughts.

“Stannis?” Robert’s tinny voice repeated, sounding as if it were coming from inside a submarine.

“Yes,” Stannis managed, bringing the phone back to his ear, “I’m here.”

“So, will you do it?” Robert asked, resuming their conversation as if Stannis had not just gone temporarily deaf.

“I don’t understand why it’s necessary.” Stannis really didn’t understand why a University student would need someone to keep an eye on her on a perfectly harmless train journey.

“I just explained it!” Robert said, sounding annoyed, “the last time she went on the train by herself she couldn’t get that creepy kid of Bolton’s to leave her alone. If Manderly hadn’t been on the train by happenstance things might really have got out of hand.”

“That’s not what you said,” Stannis argued. Robert had only said that the girl had got into a ‘spot of bother’.

“Will you do it or not?” Robert asked, annoyance in his voice.

“I’ll be on the train anyway,” Stannis said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “so I expect I’ll be able to watch her.”

“Excellent,” Robert said, sounding pleased. “Why are you going north, again?” he added as an afterthought.

“I have business at the Wall,” Stannis said, deliberately keeping his explanation short and vague. Robert didn’t really care.

“Ah, good, good.”

There was an awkward pause in the conversation.

“Was there anything else?” Stannis asked, hoping that he would be able to hang up soon.

“No, I suppose not.”

There was another drawn out and awkward pause.

“Stannis?”

“Yes?”

“Just… look after her, all right?” There was something uncharacteristically worried in Robert’s tone of voice, and it made Stannis wonder whether there wasn’t more to the story of the creepy Bolton kid than Robert was letting on.

“I will,” Stannis promised, sighing after he hung up.

Stannis put his phone away and attempted to resume the work he had been doing when Robert had called, but he couldn’t concentrate.

How did he always let Robert talk him into these things? He had been looking forward to spending the train journey north reading a book Shireen had given him for his nameday. It was an in depth analysis of notable players in the Greyjoy Rebellion, and Stannis really wanted to read it. Stannis doubted he would be able to get much reading done if he was to babysit the Stark girl -- _“Preferably without her noticing.”_

He wondered if he would even recognise her. He hadn’t seen her since she was about eight years old. A pretty child, he recalled, and very quiet compared to her siblings. Robert said that she looked just like Catelyn, and Stannis doubted there would be very many red-headed twenty year olds with the Tully look in the first class carriage. He’d most likely be able to spot her easily.

And then what would he do? Robert had said that it would be better if she didn’t know he was babysitting her. How was he supposed to keep an eye on her without coming off as a strange creep? Would she perhaps recognise him? He doubted it. He had never interacted with the Starks very much, and he thought it unlikely that the girl was the sort to read the financial section of the newspapers where his picture often appeared.

He’d just have to try to be subtle, he supposed.

Anyway, it was highly unlikely that she would run into any trouble again. The trouble with Bolton’s son had probably been some sort of unfortunate one-time event.

Maybe she would just sleep for the eight hour journey north, and he would be able to read his book after all?

***

Sansa took a deep breath before boarding the train. She hadn’t felt up to taking it for two years. Not after…

It didn’t matter. She had made sure Ramsay was not on this train. Everything would be _fine._

Sansa squared her shoulders and reminded herself that she was doing this for Old Nan. Her ninetieth nameday was approaching, and there was no way she was missing the party her mother had been planning for months on end. She was going north early so that she would be able to help with the final preparations, and so that she would be able to spend some time with her family. She was really looking forward to seeing Old Nan; the woman had been like a grandmother to Sansa and her siblings, and they all loved her deeply, but seeing her parents and all of her brothers and sister was an even more exciting prospect.

A friendly young man with sandy blond hair and a charming, dimpled smile - the sort of charming smile that he clearly knew _exactly_ how to work to his advantage - helped her with her luggage. She hadn’t asked him to, but she supposed it had been nice of him to help her stow it away in the spacious luggage rack reserved for the first class passengers.

“I’m Harry,” he said, introducing himself with a wink.

Sansa was already certain that he was the sort of guy who did not hear the word ‘no’ very often. Especially not from women.

“Sansa,” she told him, giving him a tight smile. She had been looking forward to a quiet train ride north. She really didn’t want to spend several hours rebuffing Harry’s advances.

Harry followed her to her assigned seat and sat down next to her. Sansa had not seen him check his ticket and wondered whether this was really his seat. She hoped someone else would oust him from it soon, and painted on a polite smile. He started to prattle on about how he was going to visit his family in the Vale, flashing her his charming smile after every other word. Sansa was barely paying attention to his words. She nodded and hummed, her polite smile frozen in place as she cast about for an escape route.

It did not appear as if the first class compartment would be full on this leg of the journey. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of Sansa’s stomach as she realised that she might be stuck with Harry next to her for _hours._

“So, how about you?” Harry asked, “what’s a pretty girl like you doing on a train like this?”

“I’m going home to visit my parents,” she told him, trying to keep calm. Harry would not hurt her. He was just hitting on her. She could get rid of him if she wanted. He would not be like Ramsay. 

Besides, the train was not due to leave quite yet, so if worst came to worst she could just go back to the platform.

Harry leant close, bringing his lips uncomfortably close to her ear. “Ever had sex on a train?” He whispered, pulling back to give her a rakish wink, “I know a place on this train where no one would walk in on us...”

Sansa felt herself blanch and she looked around the compartment again, desperately hoping for someone familiar to appear so that she would have an excuse to get away from Harry. She had been lucky that Wyman Manderly had been on the train last time. Maybe she would be lucky again?

“No, thank you,” she said, hoping he would simply back off.

“Come on, it would be fun,” Harry said with a wide smile.

“I don’t know you,” Sansa said, attempting to sound firm and in command. Why did guys always expect her to just take her clothes off at the snap of their fingers?

“So let’s get to know each other,” Harry said, leaning in for a kiss.

The nerve!

Sansa gracefully avoided his lips, and looked around the compartment again, praying for someone to notice her distress and help her.

A man entered the train compartment as if summoned there by her need. She recognised him instantly as she saw his picture nearly every week in the financial section of the newspapers. It was Robert’s brother, Stannis Baratheon. She couldn’t really remember having met him, but she knew he was a formidable, scrupulous businessman and currently unmarried. He had never been involved in any scandals - unlike his older brother - and her father always spoke very highly of him. According to Robert he had a ‘massive stick up his arse’, but Sansa knew to take anything Robert said about anyone with a pinch of salt.

“Excuse me,” Sansa said to Harry, trying to sound polite. She stood up and walked over to Stannis, arranging her face into the most dazzling smile she had in her repertoire. Her friend Jeyne swore she had once seen it strike five men dumb at once.

“Stannis!” she exclaimed, trying to make her voice sound familiar and affectionate. She knew Harry’s type. He would not leave her alone unless he thought she was already in the ‘possession’ of another man. Hopefully Stannis would recognise her and play along. Hopefully he was as honourable as her father said.

Stannis blinked at her, looking confused that she was approaching him.

Sansa gave him a meaningful look, placed a palm on his chest and stood on the tip of her toes to peck him on the cheek. He smelled like the air just before a storm. “Be my fiancé?” she whispered before pulling back. She didn’t quite know why she wanted him to play the part of a fiancé rather than a boyfriend. Perhaps it was only that asking a man like Stannis Baratheon to assume the title of ‘boyfriend’ just seemed terribly silly.

Stannis stared at her, his face reddening. 

It was interesting to see him up close and in person. In the pictures he was usually scowling and looking very irritated, but now he appeared surprised and wrong-footed. Without the scowl marring his features she was pleased to note that he was rather handsome. Not nearly as handsome as the youngest Baratheon brother, but he certainly had a certain distinguished, severe appeal.

“Our seats are just over here,” she told him, still employing her most blinding smile.

Stannis nodded, looking a little dazed. He followed her, but stopped when he saw that Harry was sitting where Sansa wanted him to sit.

“Would you mind moving?” Sansa asked Harry, her smile fading to a tight polite one, “I’d like to sit with my fiancé.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “This guy is your fiancé?”

“Yes,” Sansa told him, grabbing Stannis’ hand and twining her fingers with his as if to emphasise her words.

“You’re not wearing a ring,” Harry said, sounding very sceptical.

Sansa blushed and tried to think quickly. Why hadn’t she just said Stannis was her boyfriend? She glanced at Stannis, but he did not seem likely to come to her aid. He appeared to be in mild shock.

“We’re going to visit my family to get my grandmother’s engagement ring, if you must know,” Sansa invented, trying to make her voice sound as snooty as she could. “Stannis only proposed last weekend,” she added, throwing Stannis an exaggerated sappy look.

“Oh,” Harry said, looking uncertain and discomfited. He still hadn’t vacated the seat, however.

“You heard the lady,” Stannis suddenly snapped, apparently having recovered from his shock, “get out of my seat.”

His words caused electricity to race up her spine. He sounded so… authoritative.

It was just as Sansa had known it would be. As soon as Harry was convinced that she had been claimed by another man, he deflated and gave up without a word.

Why couldn’t it have been enough that she had said no? Why was she constantly forced to rely on _men_ to fight her battles for her? It was infuriating.

Harry, looking rather sulky, moved to sit a couple of seats down, and she and Stannis sat down next to each other.

Sansa realised with a little swooping feeling in her stomach that she and Stannis would have to act like they were engaged until the train reached the Vale unless they wanted Harry to realise he had been duped. She also realised that she should probably try to explain herself to her new ‘fiancé’.

Stannis stiffened noticeably when she placed a hand on his shoulder and brought her lips close to his ear so that she might whisper to him without Harry overhearing. It wouldn’t hurt to appear intimate, either.

“I’m sorry about this, but he was trying to get me to have sex with him right here on the train,” she explained, blushing scarlet at her words. Sansa noticed Stannis gripping the armrests very tightly, his knuckles turning white. His brows lowered, too, his expression turning angry.

“Vermin,” he muttered, throwing a filthy look at Harry, “shall I talk to the conductor? I could have him thrown off.”

Sansa felt mortified at the idea. After what happened with Ramsay she did not want to draw that sort of attention to herself. Again.

“No, it’s - it’s okay. I know his type. He won’t try anything if he thinks I belong to a bigger, stronger man.” She rolled her eyes. Honestly, men were so primitive sometimes.

Stannis shifted in his seat and looked uncomfortable. Sansa immediately felt bad for having pulled him into her little drama. He probably had much better things to do with his time than pretend to be some silly girl’s fiancé.

“I mean, if you don’t want to pretend to be my fiancé for a few hours I understand,” she babbled, “so if you would prefer to have him thrown off so that you don’t have to sit with me -”

“It’s fine,” Stannis said, cutting her off mid-babble.

But Sansa barely listened to him. She had suddenly thought of a potential flaw in their plan. “How far are you going?” she hurried to ask, hoping that he would be travelling further than the Vale.

“The Wall,” he told her, and she noticed how his voice was low and a little hoarse.

Sansa was flooded with relief. He’d be on the train with her all the way to Winterfell. Even though she barely knew Stannis, it was a very comforting thought.

A few more people arrived and sat down, but to Sansa’s very great relief no one tried to claim Stannis’ seat. The first class compartment was only about half full by the time the train started moving, and Sansa was pleased to note that most of her fellow passengers looked like they would quietly keep to themselves. It would have been very irritating if any more people like Harry had boarded.

The train had only been moving for a few minutes when Stannis cleared his throat. “Er, would you mind if I did some reading?” he asked, his voice still low. There was definitely something very attractive about his voice, Sansa thought, her mouth drying out.

“No, of course not,” Sansa hurried to say, “I was just going to look through a magazine, myself.”

The spent the next hour enjoying a companionable silence. She read her interior design magazine, and he studied a book that appeared to be about the Greyjoy Rebellion. Occasionally Sansa would look up and notice Harry staring at them a little moodily, and often she would notice Stannis giving her concerned looks, too. She made sure to smile at him whenever it happened, hoping to reassure him that she was fine.

***

Stannis tried to focus on his book and hoped that Sansa had not noticed that he was barely making any progress with it. He kept reading the same sentences over and over again because his concentration was absolutely shot.

Why couldn’t Robert have mentioned that Sansa was so beautiful that she couldn’t leave her house without attracting the wrong sort of attention? It would have been nice to have been given a chance to prepare himself. He had been utterly blindsided when she had walked towards him, given him the most _amazing_ smile, kissed him on the cheek and _asked him to be her fiancé._

His brain, already stalling because of that smile and the kiss, had become completely addled by her words. For a moment he had almost wanted to start searching his pockets for a ring. But when she had brought him over to where that obnoxious young man had been sitting he had understood the game they were playing. He was to pretend to be her fiancé so that the young man wouldn’t attempt to molest her.

Stannis scowled at his book. He despised the sort of men who would not listen when a woman told them no; the sort of men who would not respect a woman’s wish to be left in peace unless they were already ‘taken’ by another man. How had Sansa phrased it?

_He won’t try anything if he thinks I belong to a bigger, stronger man._

It was barbaric, primitive and utterly _stupid,_ but it had felt embarrassingly satisfying to hear Sansa describe herself as _his,_ and call him the bigger, stronger man. He knew it was unfair that she should be compelled to ask him to assist her this way, and he knew he should not enjoy any aspect of this ridiculous charade, but he could not help it. It felt… good to be cast as the hero. The one who was to save her from unwanted attention. He liked the idea of protecting her, even though he felt that in a just world she would not need him to.

It was nice to sit next to her. She did not fidget, she smelled incredibly alluring, and occasionally she would look up from her magazine and shoot him a small smile if she caught him staring. Her smiles were worth the inevitable flush of embarrassment that would creep to his cheeks when it happened.

Greyjoys. What was he learning about the Greyjoys? They liked boats?

By the gods, he was turning into an imbecile.

“Excuse me,” he said, needing to go and compose himself before he de-evolved and started to communicate by grunting and pointing like some sort of troll.

Sansa’s eyes widened with a hint of trepidation, but she nodded and squared her shoulders.

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” he promised, hoping that the young man who had been bothering her wouldn’t attempt to speak to her in his absence.

He really should have known better.

***

Harry was back the minute Stannis was out of sight.

“Are you seriously engaged to that old dude?” Harry asked, taking a seat in Stannis’ just-vacated spot.

“I am,” Sansa said, calmly closing her magazine and raising an eyebrow, “may I help you with something?”

“You don’t really _act_ like you’re engaged to him,” Harry said, his ‘charming’ grin making a comeback.

“I didn’t realise there was a certain protocol,” Sansa said, trying to keep her tone from becoming rude. Rudeness wouldn’t solve any of her problems.

“It’s been an hour and you two haven’t even kissed. Are you sure you want to marry him?” Harry arranged his face into a sympathetic sort of expression. “Are you in some sort of trouble? I could help you out, you know.”

“I love Stannis,” Sansa said, feeling herself blush at the words, “and not that it’s any of your business, but we’re not much for public displays of affection. They’re very gauche.”

“Yeah, right,” Harry said, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

Sansa took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment as she prayed for strength. “I don’t need your help,” she said as she opened her eyes, “but thank you for offering.”

“What precisely do you think you’re doing?”

Stannis had returned. He was looming over Harry and looking positively _enraged._ It was a cold sort of fury, however, all the more frightening for how controlled it looked. Sansa watched as Harry seemed to wilt; the charming smile melting off his face and leaving his chin looking oddly weak and pathetic.

“Um, sorry sir, I was just talking to your fiancée. I’ll be going now,” Harry squeaked out, standing up with his shoulders hunched and scurrying off as quickly as he could.

Sansa’s heart was beating very fast. She knew it was wrong, but that Stannis’ domineering behaviour had turned her on like nothing else had in a very, _very_ long time.

Throwing caution to the wind, and casting a haughty look in Harry’s direction, Sansa leant over and pressed her lips to Stannis’ as soon as he sat down. It was only a chaste peck, but Sansa felt electricity race up and down her spine again. She had closed her eyes for the duration of the kiss, but she opened them when she heard Stannis’ sharp intake of breath as she pulled away from him. It did not seem as if he had closed his eyes at all, and he was staring at her in shocked bewilderment.

“Thank you,” she said. In a whisper she added, “Harry thought it was odd that we hadn’t kissed.”

Stannis was obviously very flustered, but he managed to nod in understanding.

Sansa’s cheeks felt rather warm, too. So did other places. She shifted around in her seat and crossed her legs.

“His name is Harry?” Stannis asked, making her feel a little disappointed that he wasn’t going to comment on the kiss. The more reasonable parts of her were relieved for the chance to cool down, however, so she nodded.

“Not Harry Hardyng?” Stannis was furrowing his brow and looking surreptitiously over at Harry.

“I don’t know,” Sansa said with a shrug, “he only introduced himself as Harry.”

“I think he might be Jon Arryn’s great nephew. He looks a lot like Jon did when he was younger, and he seems to be the right age.”

Sansa shook her head incredulously. The ‘high society’ of Westeros wasn't a huge scene. Sometimes she felt like everyone knew everyone. Thankfully the fact that she had grown up in the north protected her from being too recognisable as a Stark in King's Landing. She got enough attention just for her looks. She'd hate to be forced to deal with the rich snobs of the city trying to arrange marriages for her, too. Sansa pulled out her phone and did some poking around on the Internet. It took ages as the connection was quite bad, but eventually she was able to confirm Stannis’ theory.

“Robert told me Harry got two girls pregnant before he even left secondary school,” Stannis said, his tone full of scorn, “and he’s already acting as if he will inherit the Arryn estate.”

“Won’t he?” Sansa asked, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“Jon’s son is very much alive, and aside from the epilepsy, quite healthy.”

“I thought the doctors said Robin wouldn’t live to see thirty,” Sansa said, cocking her head to the side and shooting Stannis a curious look. Her mother might not talk to her sister, Lysa Arryn, very much, but Robin Arryn was still _family,_ and it seemed odd that Stannis should be privy to more information about the matter than _she_ was.

“They’re being overly cautious,” Stannis said, frowning deeply, “the same pack of doctors said Shireen would die, too, and she’s quite all right.”

“Yes, but they’re hardly comparable cases,” Sansa pointed out, careful to keep her voice gentle.

Stannis sighed. “I suppose that’s true,” he said, bringing a hand up to rub the stubble on his cheeks, “but I still think the doctors are wrong about Robin.”

They were silent for a while.

“I think I will read some more,” Stannis eventually said.

Sansa nodded and reached for another magazine. A fashion one, this time.

***

Stannis’s heart was still beating a little faster than normal when he opened his book and started to pretend to read again. Going away to compose himself had only made things _worse._ Finding Hardyng in his seat when he returned had been infuriating, and it had made him feel as if he were failing in his duty to Sansa. Thankfully it had not been too difficult to scare the boy off, but then Sansa had _kissed_ him, and it had been the most shocking thing that had happened in all his years.

Her lips had been so _soft._

He was sure that if it had gone on for just a moment longer he would have been tempted to deepen the kiss and wrap his arms around her so that he might know what it felt like to hold her.

_Stop it._

He was supposed to keep her _out_ of trouble, not contemplate how best to get her _into_ trouble.

Talking about who Hardyng was had served as a suitable distraction, but now that they were both quiet and ostensibly reading, it was as if his brain was refusing to do anything but fixate on how it had felt to kiss Sansa. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to her lips, and his imagination - dusty with disuse - was suddenly in overdrive, conjuring images of Sansa’s lips on other parts of his body and phantom sensations of what it might feel like if she were to kiss his neck, his chest, his abdomen, his -

_No._

He squeezed his eyes shut and berated himself for his lack of control.

Sansa was very young and most likely not even a little bit interested in doing any more kissing with him.

“Stannis?”

His eyes flew open and he looked at Sansa, trying not to panic. Did she somehow know what he had been thinking? No, that was impossible. He was being ridiculous. He was a ridiculous man with sweaty palms.

“Yes?”

“Are you feeling well?” There was a lot of concern and kindness in her voice. Kindness he did not deserve.

“Quite well, thank you,” he managed, sounding almost normal.

“It’s just, you seem a bit…”

What? What did he seem? He stared at her intently, trying to will her to finish her sentence.

“You seem a bit uncomfortable,” Sansa said, biting her lip. Stannis had to remind himself not to inhale embarrassingly loudly at the sight. Those lips were torturously perfect.

What was wrong with him? He had _never_ acted like this over a woman before. Not even Melisandre. But he did not want to think about her now. Or ever again.

“I’m sorry if it’s because of the... you know,” Sansa said, blushing and still chewing on her lip.

“Because of the… ?” Stannis had no idea what she meant, but his mental faculties weren’t exactly in normal working order.

“You know, the kiss?” Sansa whispered, her blush deepening and turning her quite pink.

Yes, he was off balance because of the kiss. Of course it was because of the kiss. He was pretty certain that kiss had changed his life. And it had just been a quick peck. What would happen if she were to _really_ kiss him? Or if he were to kiss her? Properly, like he meant it? His heart was pounding, and he was starting to think he might have to excuse himself again so he could attempt to convince his palms to stay dry.

“Not at all,” he lied through his teeth, hoping she didn’t realise how flustered her proximity was making him.

“Oh.”

Was he imagining things or did she look a little disappointed?

“Do you think we should do it again?” she asked, tilting her head to the side, “you know, just to really convince him?”

Yes. Yes, _gods,_ yes. Please.

“If you think it’s necessary,” he said, attempting to shrug casually as if kissing the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid eyes on was of no particular interest to him.

Sansa looked at him, blushing and clearly uncertain.

He brought his head a little closer to hers, signalling that he was ready and willing. This seemed to help as Sansa’s uncertainty vanished and she closed the distance between them, bringing her lips to his.

It took an enormous amount of restraint, but Stannis managed to let her lead. She kissed tentatively and curiously, but she was brave enough to accept his invitation to deepen the kiss when he parted his lips for her, and her tongue tasted delicious against his own. _Lemon and ginger tea,_ he thought with the small part of his brain that was still functioning.

He wanted to bury his hands in her loose, long hair and explore every inch of her mouth, he wanted to trail kisses up and down her neck, pull her towards him until she was sitting in his lap, and he wanted to fondle her breasts and hear her moan his name.

_Fuck._ He was getting hard.

How in the seven hells was he getting hard just from kissing? He was forty-two, not _fourteen._

Sansa pulled back slowly and he watched as her eyes fluttered open. Her face was still rather pink, and her lips looked even more tempting than before -- which should really have been impossible. She was staring at him, her eyes very wide and very blue, and he thought he heard her let out a soft “oh,” as she exhaled.

‘Oh’, indeed.

If that kiss had left even a tenth of the impression it had left on him on her, he might actually stand a chance.

Would she say yes if he invited her to dinner?

Sansa seemed to snap out of her daze. She blinked a few times and glanced quickly at Harry Hardyng. That quick look reminded Stannis of why Sansa had been kissing him in the first place. It was not because she wanted to; it was because an entitled brat wouldn’t leave her alone.

Stannis suppressed a sigh and looked, too. The boy had clearly seen the kiss and appeared to be sulking.

Good.

“Um, I think it worked,” Sansa whispered, her lips brushing his earlobe and making him shudder with pleasure. Hopefully she didn’t notice. Hopefully his erection would go away.

She pulled away, smiled at him and went back to her magazine. 

He did not dare pick his book up from his lap for the next several minutes.


	2. Ghosts

How many perfume ads could one magazine hold? Sansa wouldn’t know. She had been staring at the same ad for the past several minutes.

She could not believe that she had actually requested - and received! - another kiss. Stannis hadn’t exactly sounded thrilled with the idea, but his body language and the look in his eyes had convinced her that he was more interested than his words indicated.

She had liked how he had left it to her to lead, though a part of her would not have minded a little aggression. Maybe next time.

Sansa shook her head slightly and closed her eyes. There would not be a next time. Perhaps he had not been entirely opposed to kissing her, but he was a _man._ A straight man, by all accounts. Sansa knew that she was very pretty, and she knew that most straight men would not object to kissing her. But being willing to kiss her once and wanting to kiss her several times was not quite the same thing.

Stannis wasn’t reading his book. He was in the aisle seat and was currently occupying himself with staring moodily out the window on the other side of the train, looking away from her.

Wouldn’t he be looking towards her if he wanted to kiss her again?

“Why are you going to the Wall?” she asked, wanting his attention. She was careful to keep her voice pitched low so that it wouldn’t draw Harry’s.

“Business,” he said, shifting in his seat and grimacing faintly. It was probably not that comfortable to sit with a heavy book about history in one’s lap like that.

“What sort of business?”

“The Night’s Watch has been requesting loans from everyone who’s ever rubbed two gold dragons together. I thought I’d go and have a look around. See if things are as dire as the commander says.”

“You know he’s my half-brother,” Sansa said, happy to be able to contribute something to the conversation, “Jon Snow, I mean. We grew up together.”

“Youngest commander in the history of the Watch, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, Dad is really proud,” Sansa said, smiling as she recalled how pleased her father had been when he had received the news.

“It’s a notable achievement,” Stannis said with a curt nod.

Sansa gave Stannis’ words some thought. Why would Jon be asking for loans? She didn’t know all the facts, but she knew Jon. “You should give him the loan,” she said, meeting Stannis’ eyes, “Jon would never ask unless there was an urgent need.”

“I’m reserving judgment until I see the conditions up there with my own two eyes, but I believe what you’re saying about your brother. He did not strike me as a frivolous man when I spoke to him on the phone.”

Sansa’s couldn’t suppress a wide smile; Stannis had listened to her and believed her! It was rare for men to hear her when she spoke. It was as if they could only use their eyes _or_ their ears -- not both at once. And when she was in front of them, they always chose to use their eyes.

“Are you going to take the train back when you’ve finished up at the Wall?” she asked, wondering if - by some miracle - they would be taking the same train back to King’s Landing.

“I haven’t decided,” Stannis said with a frown, “I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying.”

Sansa was struck by a brilliant idea.

“You should come to Winterfell before you go back,” she said before she could talk herself out of it, “my mother is throwing a huge nameday party for our old nanny and I’m sure Jon will be going. You should come down from the Wall with him.”

Stannis blinked at her and shifted around in his seat. His book fell to the floor and he hurried to pick it up and put it away in his bag. “Er, I haven’t been invited,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

“Don’t be silly,” Sansa said with a laugh, “I just invited you.”

Stannis did not look convinced.

“I’d be so pleased if you’d come,” she told him, her tone sincere, “it would give me a chance to thank you properly for coming to my rescue.” 

Stannis nodded slowly, but still looked very uncomfortable.

A playful, wicked part of her suddenly took control of her mouth. “Anyway, we have to get my grandmother’s engagement ring, remember?” 

She watched as Stannis turned bright red and suppressed a giggle. “I’m joking,” she hurried to say, lightly placing a hand on his arm to reassure him.

Stannis cleared his throat and shot her a mildly reproving look. She tried to look contrite, but couldn’t quite disguise her amusement.

“Please say you’ll come?” she said, using a combination of a special tone of voice that she had perfected over the years (imploring without being whiny) and her most effective Big Pleading Eyes™. Sansa knew it was a potent combination, and she only used it when in dire need. Like when she had been five little points away from passing a mandatory calculus class in her first semester at University. Thankfully, Professor Baelish had been highly susceptible to her pleading eyes and had given her a passing grade without making her retake the exam. She was pretty sure he would have given her the top grade if she had taken him up on his offer to buy her dinner, but that hadn’t seemed right. She had already felt guilty enough about using her looks to ‘cheat’.

Stannis was proving to be more difficult to sway. He was still looking uncertain about whether he should accept her invitation.

Sansa bit her lip, feeling a little nervous at the idea that he might reject her offer. Stannis looked at her mouth for a fraction of a second and Sansa could _see_ how the rest of his resistance wore away.

“As you wish,” he said, clearing his throat again, “though I don’t have a gift to bring your nanny.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Sansa said, smiling brightly and feeling thrilled that he had decided to visit, “I’ll take care of it.”

Stannis nodded.

Sansa wasn’t sure why, but she almost felt like Stannis had agreed to go out with her. The fact that the idea sent a thrill of excitement rushing through her probably should not have surprised her, but it did a little. She had rarely felt such a strong pull towards a man, and it had never happened after such a short acquaintance.

Was he feeling similarly attracted to her, too?

***

Stannis was no longer feeling inappropriately aroused, but his mind was buzzing with questions and his heart was still beating rather erratically.

Sansa wanted him to come to a nameday party in Winterfell? Wanted it badly enough to plead with him? 

Being asked for something the way she had just asked him to go to that nameday was a new experience for him. He didn’t know whether to feel sorry for her father and brothers or jealous. What must it have been like for them to live with Sansa and be helpless whenever she asked for a favour? Or were they perhaps immune to those wide eyes and that gently cajoling, pretty tone of voice?

Perhaps he would have been able to withstand those things if it hadn’t been for the way she bit her lip.

It had seemed like she really, _really_ wanted him to come. 

Could it be that she… liked him?

No, that couldn’t be it. He was sure that she didn’t _dislike_ him, but he highly doubted that she felt any sort of romantic attraction. She was so young and so _beautiful._ She wouldn’t waste her time ‘liking’ someone like him. He was sure she had only asked him to come to the nameday party to be polite and as a show of gratitude for taking part in this mummer’s farce they were currently embroiled in.

Sansa yawned and stretched. Stannis tried not to watch what her stretching did to her chest, but he felt his face warming when he couldn’t help but steal a glance or two.

“Do you mind if put the armrest up?” she asked, “I didn’t get too much sleep last night.”

Stannis blinked at her in confusion. He understood that she wanted to try to have a nap, but why did she need to put the armrest between them up?

He nodded instead of asking, and Sansa smiled at him as she pushed the armrest out of the way. She looked pleased and a little shy, and he understood everything when she took advantage of the lack of barriers between them to curl up in her spacious leather seat and lean against him.

Of course. They were supposed to be engaged. It would look odd if she didn’t use him as her personal pillow.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to figure out that he was supposed to put his arm around her, but eventually he unfroze and tried to help her get comfortable.

Stannis could hardly believe his luck. It seemed a great privilege to be allowed to hold Sansa like this, even though her head was rather heavy and her elbow was jabbing him in the side. She was warm and - aside from her elbow - very soft, and the faint scent of lemon and ginger tea clung to her pleasantly. He’d let her sleep on him any day of the week.

“You’re not a very good pillow,” she complained after a little while.

Stannis didn’t know whether to feel insulted, apologetic, or frightened that she would move away.

“Oh?” he said, trying to sound casual.

“You’re all… hard,” she said, looking up at him with a bemused expression.

His face became very hot, and he was suddenly very thankful that his cock had been behaving since the unfortunate erection their second kiss had brought about. He was quite certain that she wasn’t talking about _that._

Sansa poked his bicep experimentally and raised an eyebrow at him. “So, do you live at the gym or something?”

He cleared his throat and tried to shrug noncommittally. Exercising provided him with highly necessary stress relief and it was healthy. He would not apologise for doing a lot of it.

“Hold on a second,” she said, moving away from him and causing an involuntary scowl to appear on his face. She rummaged around in her carry-on bag and found a soft-looking sweater. After bundling it up and shooting him a questioning look - he tried to stop scowling in response - she placed it on his shoulder and leaned right back up against him.

“Much better,” she said with a happy sigh.

Stannis didn’t say anything. He was struggling with the urge to breathe loudly like some sort of pervert on a sex hotline and pull her closer. His blood was starting to rush south again and he bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to distract himself.

The next seven minutes were hell. He had to keep himself under control while she tried to fall asleep, and try to make sure she didn’t notice anything amiss. When he was finally certain she had drifted off, he was forced to take a very deep, very slow breath to get some oxygen to his brain. It felt like he had been holding his breath for the entire seven minutes, though of course he hadn’t.

He glanced over at Hardyng, wondering if the boy was paying them any attention anymore. Their eyes met, and Stannis was pleased when Harry was very quick to look away.

 _You’ll not be getting this girl pregnant,_ Stannis thought, glaring at Hardyng and hoping with all his might that Robin Arryn would live to a ripe old age.

Stannis couldn’t really read in the position he now found himself in, but he didn’t mind. Having Sansa so close was worth a little discomfort, and it was not as if he were bored now that he could observe Sansa without her knowing. It would be creepy to stare at her continuously, however, so he periodically looked out the window, observing the scenery rush by.

After a while Sansa shifted in her sleep, her head slipping from his shoulder and down to his chest, and then - to his horror - lower still. He glanced at Hardyng again and wondered what he would expect Stannis to do about this. Would an engaged man not allow his fiancée to sleep with her head in his lap?

Hardyng wasn’t looking at him, but Stannis made sure his face was not showing his panic in case the boy did glance at him.

Carefully, slowly, Stannis attempted to get Sansa’s makeshift pillow in between her head and the unfortunate effect her presence in his lap was having on him. The sweater was just as soft as it looked. Cashmere, most likely. Or alpaca wool, maybe. Thankfully she was mostly resting on his thigh, but if she were to wake up he wanted to have some fabric covering the… evidence of his interest in her. But hopefully it would be a while until she woke up, and hopefully his stupid erection would be gone by then.

Aside from his irksome arousal this was actually a much more comfortable position. He would be able to read now, if he wanted. It would probably be wise to attempt to distract himself with war history so that he would not be tempted to start fantasising about what Sansa might do down there if she were awake. And interested in him. And willing to do such things.

Stannis squeezed his eyes shut and told his suddenly very active imagination to get stuffed. His cock twitched and his imagination supplied him with images of Sansa getting stuffed. By him.

_Bloody buggering fucking hells._

***

Sansa woke up feeling groggy and confused. Everything was moving. There was a very bad crick in her neck. Something smelled… masculine.

Heat rose rapidly to her cheeks as she realised that she had been sleeping with her head in Stannis’ _lap._ She sat up a little too quickly, knocking Stannis’ heavy book from his hands and giving herself a headrush.

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked, “why didn’t you wake me?”

Stannis was blinking at her in confusion. “Er, what?” he said, bending to retrieve his book from the floor. Sansa noticed that her sweater was still in his lap. Should she ask for it back?

“I just - I mean - wasn’t that uncomfortable for you?” she asked, feeling mortified. Her sweater could wait.

“It was fine,” Stannis said, his manner giving new meaning to the word ‘awkward’.

Sansa wanted to bury her face in her hands and hide away for the rest of the trip. Her cheeks felt positively aflame with heat, and she did not know how to proceed now that she had embarrassed herself so thoroughly.

Before she could hide her face, however, she remembered Harry. Her neck complained when she turned her head a little too quickly to see whether he was watching her and Stannis, and her heart started beating uncomfortably hard.

Harry was not in his seat.

“He’s gone,” Stannis said, sounding less awkward now, “we’ve passed the Vale.”

“Oh,” Sansa breathed out, blinking fast. Why hadn’t Stannis woken her up once they had stopped in the Vale? There would have been no reason to allow her to use him as a pillow after Harry left.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” she asked again, furrowing her brow and staring at Stannis in bewilderment.

Stannis reddened. “I did not wish to disturb you,” he said, looking out the window rather than at her.

“Thank you,” Sansa said in a small voice, unsure how to behave now that Harry was gone.

They were both silent for a moment, and Sansa wondered if he felt as lost as she did.

“Do you know how long until we reach Winterfell?” she asked after a while, hoping to dispel the awkward atmosphere.

“Two or three hours, perhaps,” Stannis said after glancing at his expensive-looking watch.

Sansa was surprised that she had managed to sleep for as long as she had as she usually had a lot of trouble sleeping on trains and in cars. She had not lied when she had told Stannis that she had slept very little before waking up to take the train, however. Sansa had been too anxious about the trip to get any real rest, so perhaps it was only natural that she had nodded off to make up for the deficit.

“Have you eaten anything?” Sansa asked, feeling dismayed at the thought that Stannis had essentially been trapped for _hours_ as she slept. Gods, what if he needed to pee? More blood rushed to her face as she considered the trouble she had undoubtedly caused Stannis, and she bit her lip and blinked anxiously at him as she waited for his response.

“No,” he said, his eyes drawn to her mouth as she chewed her lip, “are you hungry?”

Sansa stopped biting her lip. He probably thought she was trying to eat her own lips out of hunger.

“Yes, aren’t you?”

“I suppose,” he said with shrug.

“Do you want to go to the restaurant carriage?” she asked, hoping that getting a table in between them would diffuse the tension she was feeling, and that eating would give them something to do and help the flow of their conversation.

“You wouldn’t rather I left you alone?” Stannis asked, his tone serious.

It was strange for a man to offer to leave her in peace instead of eagerly accepting an invitation to spend time with her. She stared at him, wondering whether he was simply not interested in her _that way_ or whether he was just that considerate.

“I’d love some company,” Sansa said, shooting Stannis a shy smile, “if you’re not sick of me, that is.”

Stannis huffed out a breath in an amused sort of way. Was that his version of a laugh?

“No,” he said, suddenly busying himself with attempting to inexpertly fold the sweater that had been in his lap since she had woken up so that he might return it to her. 

She accepted it from him with a nod, nervously touching the fabric; soothed by the soft feel of it beneath her fingers.

He stood and offered her his hand. She put the sweater away and took it, liking his firm grip as he helped her get up. She felt sad when it was time to let go.

The restaurant carriage wasn’t too busy as the lunch rush was over. She and Stannis found a table that was far from the other diners, and he stood until she had managed to slide into her seat. Once he was seated directly across from her, an attendant arrived with some menus and a jug of water.

They were both silent as they looked at their menus, but once they had decided what they wanted and ordered their food there was nothing left to do except talk to one another.

“Thank you,” Sansa said, feeling like she would never be able to thank him enough for what she had put him through, “for helping me. I’m really so grateful.”

Stannis looked down at the table and then out the window. There was a definite red tinge to his cheeks. “It was nothing,” he said, clearly attempting to sound brusque.

“It was not nothing,” Sansa protested, “it meant a lot to me.”

Stannis glanced at her before hurriedly staring out the window again. He cleared his throat.

“I know Harry probably wouldn’t have… hurt me or anything,” she said, wanting Stannis to know why his assistance had meant so much to her, “but I’ve had trouble on this train before, and I just -”

“You don’t have to explain,” Stannis said, cutting her off, “you don’t have to tell me anything.”

He was finally meeting her eyes, and Sansa could see that he was not trying to shut her up. He was trying to give her a way out -- to let her know that he would not press her for information she did not wish to give.

“I know,” she said, smiling at him and trying to tell him with her eyes how much she appreciated the gesture, “but I’d like to.”

Stannis straightened in his seat and looked at her attentively. It was strange to see a man like Stannis Baratheon - a man used to being listened to - be so clearly ready to hear her speak.

“Two years ago,” she began, steeling herself, “I was taking the train north so that I’d be able to spend the winter holidays with my family.”

She took a deep breath and a sip of her water.

“Roose Bolton’s son, Ramsay, was on the train. Our dads have worked together in the past, so he sat by me and we talked for a while. It was just a normal conversation on a train, nothing remarkable.”

Sansa paused and looked at Stannis. He did not say anything, but continued to look attentive.

“After a while I needed to use the facilities and excused myself.”

This was where it got difficult to speak. Sansa’s hands shook and she hid them under the table, twining her fingers together to hide the way she was trembling.

“He followed me and waited for me to come out,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut as the memory of opening the door and being _grabbed_ assaulted her, “he surprised me. Covered my mouth with his hand and forced me to come with him.”

Stannis had gone pale. She couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“He took me to some strange part of the train. I was sure no one would find us.” It had been so _loud._ The had heard the screaming sound of the train’s engine in her nightmares for several months after the event.

“He said… terrible things,” she whispered, unable to repeat a word of it, unable to even recall what he’d said to a certain extent. She mostly remembered how _terrified_ she had been. “He told me what he was going to do to me…”

Stannis made a noise that sounded as if he were in physical pain. She still couldn’t look him in the eyes.

“He forced me to take my clothes off.” The statement fell from her lips the same way it had whenever she had been compelled to describe the events before. Dry and free of emotion. “He was going to rape me.”

She took another deep breath and looked down at her hands. She was clasping them so tightly together that they looked white and bloodless.

“An attendant found us just in time to stop him,” she said, finally looking up to meet Stannis’ eyes. There was sympathy there, but no pity. No judgment. She felt an enormous amount of relief at the sight.

“Wyman Manderly had noticed that Ramsay and I had been gone a long time, and apparently he had heard some things about Ramsay’s… proclivities. He made all the attendants look for us.” Sansa hugged herself around the middle. She still felt cold at the thought of what would have happened to her if Mr. Manderly hadn’t been on that train.

“I’m very sorry he put your through that,” Stannis said, his face still ashen, “he had no right.” His voice shook with anger.

Sansa pushed the emotions that had been stirred up by the memories away. She had spoken to a therapist frequently for a while after it happened and Brienne had taught her how to get herself back to a healthy state of mind relatively quickly.

“The police took him into custody and I pressed charges, but he didn’t end up serving any time,” Sansa said bitterly, “they said there was ‘insufficient evidence’.”

Stannis clenched his jaw at that, his eyes flashing with righteous rage. “A gross miscarriage of justice,” he spat, looking so indignant on her behalf that she couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you for saying that,” she told him, feeling so pleased and relieved that he hadn’t asked her what she had been wearing or tried to indicate that she had somehow made Ramsay think that she wanted him to rape her, “I ended up taking out a restraining order against him.” It had been the only way she had been able to feel safe again.

Stannis opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment their food arrived, and he closed it again with an audible click.

Sansa was careful with her manners as they started to eat, and hoped Stannis wouldn’t say anything more about Ramsay. She didn’t really want to talk about him anymore. They ate in silence for the most part, so it seemed as if she would get her wish. But once their plates had been cleared away she saw how Stannis steeled himself before he spoke. She really hoped he wasn’t about to ask her what she had been wearing.

“If that bastard ever comes near you again,” Stannis said, cold fury in every line of his face, “I will give you access to every resource at my disposal and help you _bury_ him.”

Sansa’s eyebrows rose up in surprise for a moment. She knew enough to know that Stannis’ resources were considerable. “Thank you,” she managed, schooling her features. It would not do to stare at him in bafflement. “That’s very generous.”

Stannis inclined his head, his eyes still dark with fury.

"Anyway, this is the first time I've been on a train since it happened," Sansa said, looking down at her hands. 

"Perhaps it would be wise to invest in a car?" Stannis suggested, pouring himself some more water and holding the jug up once he was done, silently asking if she wanted more water, too.

Sansa shook her head to decline the water, smiling at him in thanks. "I'm not sure I'd trust myself to drive between King's Landing and Winterfell. I got my license in the north and I've barely driven at all since I moved south."

"Understood," Stannis said, his tone serious.

"I'm glad I decided to take this train, though," Sansa said, trying to lighten the mood of their conversation, "it's been nice to get to know you."

Stannis seemed unsure of how to react to her words.

"I hope you agree," she added, hoping she wouldn't just make him even more uncomfortable.

"Robert told me you’d be on this train. He asked me to keep an eye on you," Stannis blurted out, giving her an anxious look.

Sansa blinked at him, surprised at the random turn their conversation had taken. Did he mean to say that he had not enjoyed getting to know her? That he had only helped her because his brother had bullied him into it? Her face fell a little at the thought.

"Oh," she said, biting her lip and averting her eyes from his.

"I thought I should tell you."

"Okay."

There was an awkward silence. It was as if Sansa’s insides were being squeezed.

"That said," Stannis said, sounding incredibly awkward and looking it, too, "Robert has asked me to do more tedious things."

Sansa felt as if the air had been knocked out of her. Had that been a compliment?

"Shall we go back?" Stannis asked, looking flustered.

Sansa didn't trust herself to speak so she just nodded.

***

Seven _hells,_ could he have sounded more idiotic if he had tried?

Sansa had confided in him, trusted him by telling him of an experience that must have been utterly horrifying, and he had turned around and told her that Robert had asked him to keep an eye on her as if she were an unruly child.

He had no idea what had possessed him to say it. Sansa had not needed to know.

He had just... wanted to tell her the truth. And of course he had just blurted it out without thinking about how she would take it.

Stannis walked behind Sansa as they made their way back to their carriage. Perhaps he should have walked in front of her. It was difficult to keep from staring at her arse, even though his staring was making him feel like a horrible human being. She last thing she probably needed was some old man lusting after her.

Watching her hair instead didn’t really cool his ardour much. It swayed as she walked, catching the light that filtered through the windows and shining with every shade of auburn and copper. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and bury his nose in the thick, lustrous locks, inhale her scent and never let go.

He was still fighting with the urge by the time they found their seats.

“You don’t have to sit with me anymore if you don’t want to,” Sansa said, looking at him with a strange expression on her face.

Stannis opened and closed his mouth a few times, doing his best impersonation of a fish.

Bizarrely enough, his helplessness seemed to cheer her up. She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “But I wouldn’t mind it if you stayed,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes prettily.

He felt himself breaking into a sweat, and his heart sped up uncomfortably. It was tempting to loosen his tie a little, but pulling on his shirt collar would practically be like announcing to the entire train that he was feeling flustered.

“I was just going to read a bit more,” he finally blurted out, wincing almost as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Great!” Sansa chirped, “I think I’ll read a bit more, too.”

***

When Stannis had told her that Robert had asked him to look after her on the train she had initially felt a little upset. Now that she’d had time to think about the matter she was determined not to let it bother her. It had been kind of Robert to ask Stannis to make sure she did not run into any trouble, and kinder still of Stannis to agree to do it.

Anyway, judging by the way he had reacted when she had suggested that he could sit somewhere else because Harry was gone, Stannis was not only spending time with her out of a sense of duty or obligation. If that had been the case, he would surely have jumped at the chance to move away from her. He hadn’t done that, however. He had looked dismayed at the idea of sitting away from her, and flustered when he obviously couldn’t think of anything to say to explain himself. It had been really rather flattering.

She turned the pages of her magazine without reading any of the interesting articles. She looked at the pictures and glanced at Stannis whenever he seemed to be absorbed enough in his own book not to notice her eyes on him. There was still a slightly red tinge colouring his cheeks.

Sansa wanted to talk to him some more, but she couldn’t think of anything to say, and she didn’t want to bother him as he seemed to be entranced by his Greyjoy book. Hopefully he would keep his word and come to Old Nan’s nameday party. She’d be able to talk to him properly then.

It would be interesting to see what he made of the dress she would be wearing. It was a bit too risqué for a dignified nameday party for a ninety-year-old lady, and Sansa had planned to wear a blazer over it to hide the way it bared her arms and showed a generous amount of cleavage. If she left the blazer off it would probably serve to tell her exactly how interested Stannis was in her, _and_ whether he was a gentleman even when the ‘goods’ were on display.

When the information screen said that Winterfell was only ten minutes away, Sansa began to put her things in order.

“Don’t forget the nameday party,” Sansa said when Stannis looked up, “I’m counting on your company.” She smiled at him, trying to indicate that she was really looking forward to seeing him again.

Stannis cleared his throat, but nodded. There was something about his eyes that reminded her of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

“Jon will know all the details of when and where and how to get to the house and everything,” she told him, “and if he shows up without you I’ll be very put out with him.”

This seemed to unfreeze Stannis. His lips twitched and he raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that,” he said, his tone somewhat amused.

She beamed at him, pleased that he was playing along with her.

Stannis helped her with her luggage when the train stopped, and attempted to _shake her hand_ to say good-bye. She ignored his proffered hand and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

“We’ve had our tongues in each other’s mouths. I think we’ve moved beyond handshakes,” she said with a laugh.

Stannis went lobster red and looked down at his shoes. It was the most endearing thing she had ever seen.


	3. The Wall and Winterfell

It took Stannis half an hour to calm down properly once the train started moving from Winterfell towards the Wall. He was actually forced to go to the tiny water closet and change his shirt due to the way Sansa had been making him sweat off and on all the way from King’s Landing.

The way she had kissed his cheek on the platform in Winterfell had been really nice. And though it had been embarrassing when she had mentioned where their tongues had been, it had been less mortifying than it could have been because of the way she had laughed. She had been laughing with him, not at him, and it had made him want to smile.

Seven hells, but he was in trouble.

He didn’t even try to read his book while the train was on the last leg of its journey. He stared at the bleak landscape and analysed every word that had passed between himself and Sansa, every touch, and all three kisses. The second one had been the best, of course, but the first was special, too, because it was the _first,_ and the kiss she had bestowed when she had said good-bye had been even more special because it had not been given for Hardyng’s benefit.

Stannis groaned as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t disturb the other passengers. He was thinking like a twelve-year-old with a crush.

By the time the train reached the Wall he had managed to get himself under some semblance of control. It was a good thing, too, as Commander Jon Snow was waiting for him on the platform, looking rather like a young Ned Stark. Stannis would have to be able to play it cool around Sansa’s half-brother if he didn’t want to answer some very awkward questions about why Sansa had insisted that he join Commander Snow when he went to Winterfell for the nameday party.

“Mr. Baratheon,” Snow said, shaking Stannis’ hand firmly, “thank you for taking the time to come up here.”

Stannis nodded once. “Lead the way,” he said in return, wishing to get out of the cold. He hadn’t brought a lot of luggage, but Snow still offered to carry it for him. Stannis refused the offer and soon they were making their way towards Jon’s four-by-four in silence.

It was a relief when it seemed that Snow did not feel the need to the fill the short drive to Castle Black with meaningless chatter. 

Jon was quicker than Stannis was when they got out of the car and insisted on carrying his suitcase from the car to the once-impressive castle. There were a lot of crumbling, rough-hewn stone steps, so Stannis didn’t really mind. He needed most of his wits about him to keep from twisting an ankle, and it was good to have both hands free to make it easier for him to keep his balance.

“I’m sure you’re tired from the trip, so I’ll let you get settled,” Snow said, breaking the silence once he had led Stannis through a series of dark corridors in various states of disrepair and opened a door to what Stannis presumed were guest quarters.

“Dinner will be served in two hours, but I can have some food sent to your room if you’re hungry?”

“Never mind all that,” Stannis said, impatient with how Snow was acting more like some sort of hotel staff member than the Commander of the Night’s Watch. “When can we get down to business?”

“I thought first thing in the morning might suit?” Snow offered.

Stannis nodded, though he had no idea what he would do with himself until then.

“I left some reading material on your desk,” Snow said, clearly having picked up on what Stannis had been thinking. “I know I sent some of it already, but I thought you might want to brush up on the situation before the meeting tomorrow.”

Stannis nodded again, pleased with this arrangement.

Jon left without saying much more of note, and Stannis was regretting the fact that he hadn’t accepted the offer of having food delivered to him almost as soon as he was gone. It seemed like an awfully long time since he had been eating with Sansa on the train, and his stomach was growling loudly.

There was an ancient tea kettle and a few old tea bags on the desk where the documents Commander Snow had promised him were neatly stacked, and Stannis decided to make do with tea until dinner was served. The documents would serve as a suitable distraction from his hunger.

He knew most of what they said, already. The Night’s Watch used to be a military order, but it was more of a band of glorified park rangers these days. Still, only soldiers that met very stringent requirements were allowed to join the Watch, and it was regarded a great honour to make the cut. Becoming the Commander of the Night’s Watch was an even higher honour with even more requirements.

Their official role of the Watch was to be protect the realm and patrol the northern borders. The Wall was built to withstand avalanches in winter and prevent the spread of forest fires in summer and it was vital that it should stand whole and well maintained. However, as Castle Black and the Wall in its entirety drew a lot of tourists to Westeros each year, the less official role of the Watch was to make sure the tourists didn’t get themselves killed and serve as guides for organised hikes north of the wall.

When Stannis had first looked over the information Commander Snow had sent he had been appalled to note that the Night’s Watch had been underfunded for more than a decade, and that some years it had not even received its allotted funds at all. The Wall was starting to fall apart in places and fixing the damage would cost exponentially more with each month that went by without action being taken.

The government was ignoring Commander Snow’s pleas for assistance, so he had resorted to asking for loans from anyone he could think to ask.

Stannis knew he was the only person who had responded to Commander Snow’s cries for help, and he knew that he would do everything in his power to make certain the Wall would not come crumbling down, but now that he was looking at a more detailed estimate of the amounts that the Night’s Watch would need he was starting to doubt that he would be able to do it all by himself.

It was with a heavy heart and furrowed brow that he left his quarters to look for the dining hall precisely two hours after Commander Snow had left him. There had been instructions on his desk, and he had been fairly certain he would be able to follow them without getting lost, but it still took him a little longer than he had expected. Castle Black was an utter maze.

“You made it,” Commander Snow said with a smile when Stannis entered the dining hall. He offered Stannis a place of honour on his right, and Stannis accepted the seat without comment.

“We had a delivery of fresh fish from Eastwatch today,” Snow explained with apparent relish, “I think the cooks are making us a fish stew.”

“Very good, Commander Snow,” Stannis muttered, not really caring what was on the menu as long as it was edible and would fill his empty stomach.

“Jon, please,” Jon said, his tone firm.

“Stannis,” he returned with a curt nod, thinking he might as well be on first name terms with the man if he was to go with him to a nameday party.

Stannis was very glad when the food was served quickly and piping hot. He was tempted to abandon his manners and tuck in the same way most of the men around him did: dipping the coarse chunks of brown bread into the stew with their hands and using it to shovel the steaming fish down their gullets as if they were pressed for time.

He managed to restrain himself when he noticed that Jon was using his cutlery and eating at a sedate, measured pace.

“How was the journey?” Jon asked once they had both finished their meals.

Stannis sighed internally. Apparently it was time for small talk now.

“Tolerable,” he said, hoping that would be the end of things.

“My sister sent me a text shortly after I showed you to your room,” Jon said, tilting his head to the right and observing Stannis shrewdly, “apparently I am to take you to Old Nan’s nameday party in a couple of days.”

Stannis was proud of the straight face he was able to maintain. “Yes, she was quite insistent,” he said, trying to sound casual and noncommittal.

“She said you sat by her on the train and that she wanted you to come.” Jon was obviously hoping for more details.

Stannis definitely wanted her to want him to come. He kept his face blank and nodded. “That’s right.”

Jon’s friendly, curious expression was rapidly becoming forced.

“She just randomly asked you to be her plus one?” he asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

Stannis shrugged. “I suppose she did.” He was not about to tell the commander of the Night’s Watch that he had pretended to be his sister’s fiancé, and that they had kissed. With tongue.

“And you just... randomly decided to agree to go?”

“It seemed churlish to decline the invitation,” Stannis said, clearing his throat and hoping Jon would drop the matter.

“Mm.” Jon was still looking at him with a very sceptical expression on his face.

For the first time in his life, Stannis regretted his reputation for disregarding courtesy in favour of getting things _done._ If he were the sort of person who routinely accepted invitations just to be polite, Jon would probably not be looking at him like that.

They stared at each other for a moment, and Stannis could have sworn that Jon rolled his eyes as he looked away.

“My sister has always been very convincing when she decides to be,” he said with a sigh.

“Indeed,” Stannis said, not really trusting himself to comment on Sansa without giving himself away.

“I can make your excuses, you know,” Jon offered, taking on the air of a soldier willing to go into battle, “you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I gave my word,” Stannis said stiffly, hoping that this conversation would be coming to an end soon.

“Yeah, and she bullied me into promising to bring you, actually,” Jon admitted with a sheepish expression.

Now it was Stannis’ turn to raise an eyebrow. The commander of the Night’s Watch allowed himself to be bullied by a pretty young girl?

Jon shot him a wounded glance. “She’s very persuasive,” he muttered.

Stannis arranged his face into a more neutral expression. Jon was right. Sansa _was_ persuasive. It was probably sexist of him to judge Jon for bowing to her will. He, Stannis, had gone along with everything she had suggested, after all, and he never usually kowtowed to anyone except Robert.

“Anyway, how would you prefer to spend your evening? I could show you the rec room, or I could take you to the library if you would like a more quiet atmosphere.”

“I think I would like to go back to my quarters. There are a few documents on the desk in there that I want to study more closely before our meeting tomorrow.”

“As you wish,” Jon said, not looking very surprised, “do you think you can find your way back?”

“Yes.”

Stannis returned to his desk and the stack of papers Jon had left for him and spent hours combing through the files, trying to think of a solution to the problems enumerated within. The only solution he could really think of was the same solution Jon had come up with.

Vast amounts of money.

It was late when he finally decided to give up and go to bed, but he lay awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling and trying to think of what to say to Commander Jon Snow come morning.

Eventually his thoughts began to stray. The memory of Sansa’s red hair, flashing with copper highlights in the sunlight pouring through the train windows, came back to him. He recalled her soft lips on his, the scent of lemon and ginger tea, and the feel of her head in his lap.

He felt himself flushing, and a familiar sensation of pressure below the waistband of his pyjama bottoms started to demand his attention. His breathing became a little more laboured and his brought his hands up to rub at his face so that they wouldn’t be tempted to rub at… other things.

This was not the time or the place.

His imagination started to supply him with images of what Sansa might look like naked.

“No,” he said to himself, feeling very annoyed with his traitorous brain, “stop that.”

Her breasts were probably perfect. Round and perky with little nipples that would beg to be teased…

Stannis groaned and turned around so that he could attempt to smother himself with a pillow. His hips betrayed him, too, and started to make little thrusting movements. Apparently he was pathetic enough to attempt to fuck the mattress.

He gritted his teeth and turned back to lie on his back once more. “No,” he said again, more firmly.

The pressure in his groin seemed to intensify and tantalising images of what it would have been like if Sansa had been awake when she’d been resting her head on his thigh started to play like a film behind his closed eyelids.

The Sansa of his fantasy would have unzipped his fly and released his cock with a shy look up at him, she would have touched him very lightly at first, but then more firmly, stroking him and biting her lip in that delicious way…

Stannis realised he was touching himself and hurriedly tore his hands away, grabbing at his bedclothes instead. _Stop it, stop it, stop it._

He blew out a loud breath and tried to clear his mind.

It felt very wrong to use his memories of the time he had spent with Sansa to get himself off. He had no idea how Sansa might feel about him doing it, so he had the notion that he should ask her permission. That would never happen, however. The very idea was mortifying.

_Excuse me, Sansa, but would you mind if I had filthy thoughts about you while I masturbate?_

_Wouldn’t you rather have a blowjob?_

_No, I couldn’t possibly... I barely know you._

_I’d love to lick your cock for you, Stannis._

He realised his hand was moving frantically again, filling the room with the very distinctive, fleshy sound of ‘self-help’. He groaned when he realised that he couldn’t stop. His self control seemed to have flown out the window, and he was too far gone, anyway. Finding release was the only thing he could do at this point.

The images that filled his mind became increasingly pornographic the closer he got to his orgasm, the ideas for what he would do with Sansa if she were amenable to such things becoming more and more outlandish. The Sansa of his fantasies went from sucking him off to begging him to fuck her in no time flat, and he imagined taking her in every which way as she gasped his name and - this was something he would not admit even under torture - cried that he had the biggest cock she had ever been fucked with. 

He came with an embarrassing grunt as he imagined Sansa ecstatically moaning that he had ruined her for other men, and that he would just have to keep fucking her forever since no other man would be able to make her come.

Once the haze of lust had cleared, and Stannis was faced with the viscous mess that was rapidly drying on his hand, his abdomen and sticking to the hairs that grew around his navel, he grimaced and sighed heavily.

This sort of behaviour was beneath him. It was done, however, and hopefully it had cleared his mind of this ridiculous attraction he had been feeling since he had laid eyes on Sansa on the train. He could not afford distractions such as these. He had a business to run.

Maybe getting her out of his system this way would allow him to act his age around her the next time they met, instead of sweating like a schoolboy.

He hoped so.

***

Sansa’s father came to pick her up from the Winterfell train station. He gave her a bear hug when they found each other in the small crowd, and Sansa almost started to cry. It had been such a long time since she had seen her father, and it was such a relief to see that he hadn’t changed and that he still smelled like he was supposed to.

“Daddy,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest, “I missed you.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I missed you, too,” her father said, stroking the back of her head and kissing her forehead.

They didn’t say much as they found her father’s rusty old pickup (“It still works, why should I get a new one?”) and navigated their way out of the busy train station parking lot.

Once they were on the road her father asked how the journey had been.

“It was fine,” Sansa said, wondering if she should mention Harry. She decided not to. Her father would probably just start worrying about letting her take the train back south. “I met Stannis Baratheon. He sat next to me.”

“Stannis?” her father said, sounding intrigued.

“Yes, he was really good company. I asked him to come to Old Nan’s nameday party since he’ll be up here for a few days. He has business with Jon.”

“That was kind of you,” her father said with a fond smile, “is he going to come?”

“Yes, of course.”

Her father raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

Sansa decided to change the subject and asked her father how the preparations for the party were going. This topic lasted them for the rest of the drive to the house. Her father had a lot to say about how frightening his wife had been for the past few weeks as she organised the party almost as if she were a general organising a military campaign.

“I swear, my tongue was dry for days after I licked all those stamps,” her father said as he carried her luggage through the front door of the house for her.

Sansa laughed and shook her head as she removed her coat.

“Your mother’s in the living room if she’s still where I left her.” Her father started to walk up the stairs towards her old bedroom. “I’ll put your bag away in your room.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Sansa said, smiling at her father and walking over to the living room.

If hugging her father at the train station had made her feel emotional, she didn’t know what to call the feelings that overcame her when her mother embraced her. A few tears escaped from both sets of Tully blue eyes and they were still clinging to one another by the time Sansa’s father found them.

“Er, I’ll make some tea,” he said, leaving them to it.

Sansa spent the late afternoon, dinner, and most of the evening catching up with her parents and listening to their stories of what had been going on in the north ever since Sansa had left for school. Some of the stories she had already heard from her siblings when they had occasionally visited King’s Landing, but Sansa did not mind hearing them again. 

She was concerned to hear how worried everyone in Winterfell and the other northern settlements was about the Wall.

“It’s in an utter _state,_ ” her father said, shaking his head. There were deep creases between his eyebrows.

“Can’t Jon fix it?” Sansa asked, feeling confused.

“He’s trying,” her father said with a tired smile. He changed the subject after that and Sansa put the Wall from her mind.

Later, when Sansa was alone with her mother, she told Catelyn everything that had happened on the train with Harry Hardyng, and how Stannis had helped her. She didn’t tell her mother that Stannis had helped her by pretending to be her finacé and kissing her, but she did say that Stannis had sat next to her to make sure Harry wouldn’t bother her, and that he had made sure Sansa was left in peace for the duration of the trip.

“That was kind of him,” Sansa’s mother said, her tone surprised.

“Robert asked him to look out for me, apparently.”

“Did he?” Her mother’s eyebrows rose towards her hairline.

Sansa just shrugged. She didn’t know what to say.

Her mother seemed to make an effort to collect herself. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said, nodding distractedly.

“But, oh, _sweetling,_ ” her mother said, reaching to embrace Sansa, “I’m so sorry that Harry talked to you like that. I’m sure it was terribly unpleasant.”

“He wasn’t that bad,” Sansa said, feeling both embarrassed by her mother’s coddling and secretly pleased by the comforting show of affection.

“Still, it’s just awful when men refuse to listen, isn’t it?” There was a deep understanding in her mother’s voice that Sansa could tell came from years of experience with dealing with just that problem. Not from her father, of course, but from other men.

Sansa made a sad noise of assent.

“Why don’t I make you some hot chocolate before bed?” her mother offered, releasing her from the safety of her arms.

The hot chocolate worked its magic and Sansa was feeling quite at peace by the time her head hit her pillow.

With her mind in that vague place it tended to go to just before sleep claimed her, she thought of Stannis and wondered if he had been thinking of her at all since they had parted ways. Had he been wondering whether they would ever kiss each other again,? Whether they would become friends and laugh about their silly kisses one day? Had he been recalling how nice it had been to share a comfortable silence as they read?

If she hadn’t been half asleep she might have blushed as she wondered whether the idea of being naked together had crossed his mind, too.

Stannis would probably look very nice naked. He had been all hard with muscles when she had tried to use him for a pillow, after all…

Sansa had very pleasant dreams that night, and woke up feeling utterly unconcerned with the likes of Ramsay Bolton and Harry Hardyng.


	4. The Party

Stannis was pleased that he had a clean, mostly wrinkle-free suit to put on when it was time to go down to Winterfell for the nameday party he had promised to attend. He never paid his appearance too much mind - he was no preening peacock like Renly - but he knew the value of making a good impression, and it would not be ideal to show up looking too rumpled.

“Ready to go?” Jon asked unnecessarily when they met in the entrance hall as they had arranged to do. Stannis nodded, the movement jerky and irritated. Of course he was ready to go. Otherwise he would still be in his quarters.

Jon would be driving them to Winterfell and staying the night at the Starks’ house. Stannis would be staying at a hotel in town after the party wound down. Tomorrow he would go back to King’s Landing.

Stannis estimated that they were about halfway to Winterfell when he decided to break the silence that had reigned in the car ever since they had left Castle Black.

“It is… unfortunate that I am unable to solve all of your problems.” He had never really wanted for money and it was a strange feeling to wish that he was much richer.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon said, turning his head to smile at him briefly, “the loan you’re giving us ought to help us make it through the next winter, at least.”

“And then you’ll be right back where you are now,” Stannis grumbled, disliking short-term solutions.

Jon sighed. “That can’t be helped.”

Of course it could be helped. There were more people in Westeros who had access to money than just him, and if they could just be persuaded to part with a few coins each...

Stannis shook his head in frustration. Jon had told him that every single person with access to generous amounts of money had denied his requests for loans. Everyone except Stannis.

Still, there had to be a way. He just hadn’t thought of it yet.

Stannis and Jon were silent for another long stretch of time.

“So, um, did you enjoy your visit?” Jon asked, sounding a little awkward, “I noticed you didn’t opt to go on any of the walking tours.”

Stannis stared at Jon. This had been a _business trip._ Why on earth would he have gone on walking tours?

Jon was busy driving and didn’t really perceive the full effect of Stannis’ incredulous and slightly disgusted glare. He kept talking as if Stannis had just made some polite excuse.

“I hope you at least got to see some of the sights in passing.”

“I saw enough,” Stannis said, his irritation bleeding through in his tone.

“Oh, okay.”

They were nearly at their destination when Jon started to speak again.

“Sansa called me last night,” he said, his tone conversational and light on the surface, with badly concealed curiosity underneath, “she was reminding me to bring you.”

_So?_

“That was attentive of her.”

“Yes. Very attentive.” Jon pulled into a parking spot and looked searchingly at Stannis. Stannis tried to keep his face blank.

“Shouldn’t we go inside?” Stannis said curtly, wanting to end this inept interrogation. Hadn’t it been enough that Jon had asked him about Sansa on the day he had arrived at Castle Black?

“Yes,” Jon said vaguely. He shook his head as if to clear it. “Yes, we should,” he said more firmly, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car. Stannis followed him.

“Jon! You made it!” Ned Stark looked very pleased to see the commander when he opened the front door for them. It was odd to see Ned Stark smile. He usually always looked so grave. Not that Stannis had spent all that much time with the man.

“And Stannis!” Ned reached his hand out to shake Stannis’. He had a good firm grip. “Come in, come in.”

“Are we early?” Jon asked, looking around the quiet foyer.

“Only a little, I expect more guests will be arriving soon.”

Jon and Stannis were ushered into the living room where the furniture had all been pushed to the side, and the door leading into the large garden had been left ajar. Stannis saw that a large party tent had been set up outside, space heaters already up and running to battle the chill of the mild autumn evening. Ned disappeared to a different part of the house almost as soon as he had shown them to the living room, but they were not alone for long. Catelyn found them, offered them drinks, and suggested they might sit on the sofa while they waited for more guests to arrive.

“Sansa was helping me get everything set up outside until a few minutes ago,” she explained even though no one had asked, “she’s upstairs getting changed right now, but I’m sure she’ll be down soon.”

She had directed her words more at Stannis than at Jon and now she was smiling very warmly at him. It was a little confusing.

“Where are Robb, Arya, Bran and Rickon?” Jon asked, looking around hopefully.

“Robb is helping the wait staff with the appetisers - I’m sure he’ll be along any minute - and Arya took Bran and Rickon to the woods for a walk. She really should have been back by now…” Catelyn trailed off and started craning her neck, looking out the window towards the woods.

The doorbell rang and she hurried off to answer it.

Somehow Stannis found himself holding a glass of water. He took a sip and wished there was a slice of lemon in his glass. But apparently they were out of season, and every lemon the Starks had been able to get their hands on had been used to make lemon cakes.

The room started to fill with people, and soon there were so many guests that people started to make use of the party tent. Jon had long ago abandoned him in favour of Robb Stark, and although Robb had shaken Stannis’ hand and given him an appraising look, Sansa’s brother hadn’t shown much of an interest in talking to him.

Arya, Bran and Rickon turned up, looking rosy-cheeked and cheerful, and Stannis estimated that Arya was probably in her final year of secondary school. She looked about the same age as Shireen. Bran was somewhere in the middle of puberty, and did not seem entirely comfortable in his skin. Stannis could sympathise. Puberty had not been easy on him either, though he had come through it all right in the end. Rickon was perhaps around... ten? He was very energetic and chatted happily with anyone who would listen to him about his puppy, who was apparently not invited to the party, but was still the finest puppy there ever was.

Stannis was starting to think that Sansa would miss the entire party when she finally arrived. He had chosen a spot where he could stand in relative seclusion and keep an eye on nearly everyone in the living room while also being able to glimpse the staircase that led to the second floor of the house.

His mouth went completely dry when he spotted Sansa on the stairs. She was wearing the kind of dress that he hoped Shireen would never want to wear in public. It was tiny, it was _white_ and it looked more like something she ought to wear to bed than to a party. Her hair was loose and very glossy, her feet were strapped to some very high heels, and her face looked _ethereal._

Stannis wished he’d had the wherewithal to hide before she saw him, because he was _not_ ready to speak like a normal human being.

“Stannis!” She walked up to him, closer, closer, _closer_ , until she was nearly pressed up to him, kissing his cheek the way she had at the train station in Winterfell, enveloping him in the scent that clung to her and - _seven fucking hells_ \- making him break into a sweat.

He sucked in a deep breath and tried to take a step back, but the lovely lemon and ginger scent of her was making him dizzy, so it was more like a stumble than a step.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she said, reaching to touch his arm. She was smiling brightly and looking at him like he was the only man in the room. It was flattering, but a bit unnerving, too.

“Good.” Stannis felt his face heat up with embarrassment. He sounded like some self important _arse._ He took a sip of his water, cleared his throat and tried again. “Good evening.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Sansa said, ignoring his odd behaviour, “Arya always teases me about how I lose track of time when I’m getting ready. Maybe she’s right.”

Stannis watched as Sansa bit her lip and shrugged. He was working very hard to keep his eyes trained on her face rather than letting them roam over her scantily clad body like they desperately wanted to. That dress should be _illegal._

He nodded, feeling unequal to the task of speaking.

Ned Stark came over before Sansa could say anything else.

“Sansa, how nice of you to join us,” he said, sounding amused. Stannis watched as Ned noticed what his daughter was wearing, and felt an odd sort of sympathy for the man. “What on earth are you wearing?” Ned asked, his voice pitched low so that it wouldn’t carry.

“It’s Dornish,” Sansa said, glowing with pleasure, “an original Oberyn Martell.”

Ned stared at her blankly.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “He’s a very important designer, Daddy.”

Stannis vaguely recalled Cersei going on about him at some infernal dinner, and realised that the scrap of fabric that was barely covering Sansa probably cost more than his bespoke suit. He wanted to shake his head at the absurdity of female fashion, but decided to keep still and not draw any attention to himself.

“Yes, well, but aren’t you cold?” Ned asked, looking uncomfortable.

“Not at all,” Sansa said with a dazzling smile.

Ned looked at him as if asking for help. Stannis panicked internally, and it must have shown in his eyes because Ned seemed to realise that no help would be forthcoming from his direction.

“Er, right. I’ll just… go,” Sansa’s father said, looking awkward and discomfited. “Old Nan is in the tent outside if you want to go and say hello.” With that, Ned left.

“Honestly, he has no fashion sense,” Sansa said, shaking her head and smiling fondly. “You like it, don’t you?” she added, raising her eyebrows and looking at him expectantly.

Stannis blinked at her furiously for a few seconds before realising that he might be able to get away with just nodding again. He jerked his head up and down, probably looking as if he’d just had some sort of spasm.

“Have you wished Old Nan a happy nameday yet?” Sansa asked, looking perfectly satisfied with his nonverbal spasm.

He shook his head, trying to make the movement more dignified than his nod. Did he do it too slowly? Did he come off as if he didn’t know whether he had wished Old Nan a happy nameday?

Was it too late to just run away?

“Let’s go find her, then!” Sansa exclaimed, grabbing his elbow and walking towards the tent. He followed her as if he were in a trance, too distracted by the way she was holding onto him to notice any of the people around them.

“Happy nameday, Nan,” Sansa said once they had forced their way to the front of the crowd that surrounded the remarkably spry old bird at the centre of the tent. Sansa hugged the old woman and kissed both her wrinkled cheeks.

“Thank you, dear,” the woman said, clasping Sansa’s hands, “you look very pretty tonight.”

“You look wonderful, too,” Sansa said, going on to compliment Nan’s dress and asking her where she had got it.

“Nevermind all that,” Nan said, waving her hand impatiently, “who is this young man?”

Stannis started when he realised Nan was referring to him. He cleared his throat, wished the woman a happy nameday and introduced himself, offering his hand to shake and hoping that Nan wouldn’t notice how sweaty his palms had become.

“Baratheon, eh?” Nan said, giving him a shrewd look. “Yes, that figures,” she muttered to herself.

“You take good care of my Sansa, you hear?” she said more loudly, poking his chest once to emphasise her words.

“Er,” he said, casting a helpless look towards Sansa.

“Oh, we’re not together,” Sansa hurried to explain.

Old Nan snorted. “If you say so, my dear.”

Sansa blushed and gave Stannis an apologetic look.

A group of newly arrived guests walked up, clearly wanting a moment with the guest of honour. Sansa politely made way for them and dragged Stannis over to a table covered with drinks and appetisers. She steered clear of the Champagne and picked up a glass of sparkling water, taking several long pulls before finding an appetiser she liked the look of and nibbling on it delicately.

Stannis refilled his glass of still water for something to do.

“So… how did everything go at the Wall?” Sansa asked, looking more at ease and less pink in the face.

Stannis took a sip of water. Why did his mouth keep going so dry?

“My meetings with Commander Snow led to a less satisfying result than we both might have hoped,” he explained, pleased to note that his voice sounded almost normal.

“Oh?” Sansa looked concerned and genuinely interested.

“The Wall is in need of extensive repairs and maintenance,” Stannis told her, “I intend to loan your brother what money I can spare, but it will not be enough.”

Sansa looked even more concerned at that. “What do you mean?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“I mean that the Night’s Watch will need rather more money than I am able to lend if they are to keep providing their important service to the realm.”

“Well… can’t more people lend money?” Sansa asked, looking confused.

Stannis sighed. That was the big question.

“Your brother asked more people, but it seems that most do not think the protection of the realm is a worthwhile cause.” 

Sansa looked at him and appeared to be thinking his words over very carefully.

“The people he asked… they mostly live in the south, don’t they?” she asked, still looking very thoughtful.

“I’m not certain, but I expect so.”

“Well, they can hardly know how important the Wall is if they’ve never lived in the north, can they?” Sansa pointed out, a small crease between her eyebrows.

“Fair point,” Stannis said, nodding.

“What if… “ Sansa trailed off, biting her lip and blinking fast, “what if someone threw a fundraiser?”

Stannis didn’t understand what she said right away because of the way she was biting her lip. But the words she had spoken made it through the haze her presence seemed to bring about eventually.

“A fundraiser?” he managed, dragging his eyes from her lips to her eyes. Stannis didn’t know much about cosmetics, but he knew enough to realise that the shading on her eyelids was a work of art. It emphasised without being garish, and drew attention to the natural beauty of the shape and colour of her eyes.

“Yes, you know, a big party where experts and maybe some famous people could explain how important the Wall is, and why everyone should chip in.”

_Huh._

“That - that might actually be a viable solution,” he said, sounding a little more surprised than he had intended.

Sansa looked _delighted_ at his words, and not the least bit offended that he had sounded surprised.

“You should make it happen, then,” she said, her entire visage alive with cheerful excitement.

“I should?” He was not exactly the type to organise or throw parties. That was more Renly’s thing.

Sansa opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment someone barrelled into him at full speed, causing him to stumble forwards and crash into Sansa.

Thankfully he managed to use the hand that was not busy trying not to drop the glass of water he was holding to steady them both, and they were saved from the humiliation of ending up in a heap on the ground.

“Rickon!” Sansa shouted, “get back here!”

But Rickon was rapidly disappearing into the crowd again.

Stannis hurriedly took a step back from Sansa, but realised almost at once that it had been a mistake. His glass of water might still be in his hand, but the water it had contained had moved to the front of Sansa’s dress.

She was obviously not wearing a bra.

He could see _everything._

For a few beats he just stared, his face heating up to an extent that he hadn’t realised was possible, and a very inconvenient feeling of pressure making itself known below his belt.

But then it was as if his brain started working again after its brief holiday, and he hurriedly took his suit jacket off and draped it around Sansa’s shoulders and pulling the lapels together, hiding her completely. She had been looking down at herself, seemingly to assess the damage, and looked surprised - but grateful - for the jacket.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing as she clearly realised how much Stannis had just seen. “I should probably go and change,” she added.

“I - I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “about the water, I - I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s not your fault,” Sansa said, cutting him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, unable to really think of anything to say as most of his mental faculties were focused on making sure the semi in his trousers didn’t get out of control. A full-blown erection in the clothes he was wearing would be very noticeable. He could not afford to let it happen.

“Um, is it okay if I borrow this?” Sansa asked, indicating the jacket.

“Of course,” he said hastily, “that was the idea.”

“Thank you,” she said again, looking up at him from behind slightly lowered eyelashes, “I’ll bring it right back once I finish getting changed.”

Stannis swallowed thickly. It had been a very long time since a woman had looked at him like that. He nodded jerkily and wondered whether he’d ever be able to move his head in front of her without appearing to have some sort of medical condition.

Sansa smiled at him and turned to make her way back into the house. He couldn’t help but stare at her long bare legs.

Perhaps he should spill some cold water down his trousers, too?

He decided to find the nearest washroom so that he could do the next best thing and splash some water on his face.

He was waylaid by Arya Stark, however.

“Hi,” she said, her entire manner somehow _blunt._

“Good evening,” he said, not bothering to sound very interested in sticking around to chat.

“Are you trying to fuck my sister?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.

He felt his face go up in flames yet again. “What? No.”

“Then why did you decide to enter her into a wet T-shirt contest without her permission?” Arya demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest and raising an eyebrow.

Stannis contained the urge to say ‘what?’ again and shook his head. “That was an accident. Your youngest brother ran into me.”

“Yeah, and you tried reeeally hard not to spill your water all over Sansa’s tits,” Arya said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Stannis shot her an offended look. She thought he did it on purpose?

“Look, I’m just going to be straight with you. Sansa has been dealing with stalkers and creeps ever since she turned thirteen. It’s like she can’t go anywhere without all these dudes getting massive boners and trying to follow her home.”

Stannis furrowed his brow and nodded, feeling bad for Sansa but also confused. What was Arya’s point?

“If you’re one of them, I just want you to know that I’ve got my eye on you, and I won’t let you hurt my sister.”

Stannis raised both eyebrows. He didn’t know whether to be offended or impressed. He did not think anyone outside his own family had ever spoken to him this plainly, or this _rudely._ But it was clear that Arya was fiercely protective of her sister and willing to take anyone on for her sake. He could appreciate her moxie, if not her impertinent language.

“I assure you, I have no intention of harming Sansa,” he told her, trying to stay calm and not think about how he fit the profile of a ‘creep with a massive boner’ following Sansa home.

 _Sansa invited me to come here,_ he reminded himself firmly.

“Make sure that you don’t,” Arya said, giving him a hard stare and walking off.

Sansa returned just in time to sing the nameday song for Old Nan and watch as the woman blew out the candle on her massive cake. Sansa was wearing a much less revealing dress, and Stannis felt a mixture of relief and disappointment when he saw it. It would be easier to stay focused now, but he really had not minded the previous view. It had been very attractive both before and after the accident, he thought guiltily.

Sansa returned his jacket and he hurriedly put it back on, having felt strangely exposed in just his shirtsleeves. Remembering his manners, Stannis thought to ask after her dress. If he had ruined it he should probably offer to recompense her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Sansa said with a kind smile, “it was only water. The dress will be fine once it dries out. Anyway, Oberyn Martell has eight or nine daughters, so he knows enough to make all his designs out of fabrics that don’t get ruined too easily.” Her smile became more of a cheeky grin at that, and Stannis felt his own lips twitching in response.

Sansa never really left his side after that. He was not attempting to trail after her like some lost pup, and he tried to make it clear that she was free to leave him to his own devices, but she seemed to prefer his company. Sansa made no noticeable effort to walk around and mingle, but it seemed as if she managed to speak to everyone at the party nonetheless. He supposed that if one was as charming and beloved as she was, it was easy to just stand still and wait for people to come to her and chat.

A lot of the people who came to talk to Sansa asked about him. Most tended to assume they were _together_ and Sansa had to repeatedly explain that he was simply a friend of the family, in the north for business.

Eventually Sansa decided that she had had her fill of other people.

“Let’s go for a walk or something,” she suggested, “I need a bit of quiet.”

“Er, I should probably just get to my hotel,” Stannis said, ill at ease with the idea of a moonlit stroll alone with Sansa. He had the strangest idea that Arya might follow them and attempt to tackle him to the ground.

“How are you getting there?”

Good question. Jon would most likely be sleeping at the house, and Jon had been his ride.

“I’m not certain. I suppose a taxi… ?”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll drive you.”

Hadn’t she said something about not being comfortable with driving when they had been talking on the train?

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m perfectly capable of driving here in Winterfell.”

“If you’re sure it’s not an imposition,” he said, not entirely sure that accepting a ride from Sansa was a good idea. It might be strange to be alone in a car with her.

“Of course not!” Sansa exclaimed. She looked quite happy with the idea of driving him; it was rather gratifying. “Come on, I’ll borrow my mother’s car. It will be much nicer than my father’s rust bucket.”

They said their good-byes and Stannis thanked Jon for hosting him at Castle Black.

“I might call you in a few days about an idea Sansa had for raising funds for the Wall,” Stannis said as he shook hands with Jon. “I want to discuss it with some of my people in King’s Landing, but I think she might have come up with a good solution.”

Sansa blushed at his words, but looked very pleased nonetheless. The shy smile she directed at him made him feel rather flustered. Hopefully Jon didn’t notice.

“Really?” It was strange to see a delighted expression on such a grave face. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you, then.”

Stannis nodded, feeling certain that Jon would have heard all about Sansa’s idea from her before he had a chance to call.

Catelyn Stark’s car was clearly new; it still had that distinctive ‘new car’ smell, and it was spotlessly clean. Sansa was a good driver, if a little out of practise.

There was an awkward silence for the first five minutes on the road, and Stannis tried to appear calm and relaxed even though he had rarely felt more on edge.

Just as the silence was about to become unbearable, Sansa asked him a question. 

“When are you going back?”

“Tomorrow,” he said, relieved that she had spoken.

“Me too!” she exclaimed, obviously pleased with the news. “Will you be on the ten o’clock train?”

Stannis opened his mouth and said words that seemed to come out of nowhere.

“No, I’ve decided to rent a car and drive back.”

Sansa briefly took her eyes off the road to stare at him as if his head had just spun in a complete circle on his shoulders.

“Oh,” she said, turning her head back to blink rapidly at the windscreen.

“You’re welcome to join me,” he heard his possessed mouth say, “I know you’re not overly fond of the train.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open for a second before she hurriedly closed it. She looked fixedly at the road ahead.

“Are you sure that would be okay?” she asked, sounding hesitant.

“I can’t see why not. Driving won’t be quite as quick, but I think we should be able to make the trip in one day. Two at most.”

Stannis was amazed at how calm he sounded. But he was realising that this idea had been coming together at the back of his mind ever since Sansa told him about her experience with Ramsay. He felt protective of Sansa, and wanted to make sure she would arrive safely in King’s Landing without having to endure another train ride that would undoubtedly bring back painful memories for her. He sounded calm because this plan had nothing to do with his attraction for her, and everything to do with the fact that he was a father, and hoped that another person might offer to do the same for Shireen if she were ever in Sansa’s shoes.

“If you’re sure...” Sansa said, her voice soft.

“I am,” he said, trying not to sound too abrupt. He _was_ certain. Even though he had some definite concerns about spending such a long time in close proximity with Sansa.

They were silent for the rest of the drive to the hotel. Five minutes, perhaps.

“So… when are we leaving?” Sansa asked once she had cut the engine off, turning her head to look at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“I’ll pick you up at around nine?” he suggested, wondering if that was too early for her.

“Sounds perfect,” she said, still looking at him with that strange expression on her face. Her eyes were hypnotic in the dim light of the hotel parking lot.

“I’ll - I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said, his mouth suddenly as dry as it had been when he had first seen her in her white dress..

“Okay,” she whispered. She was blushing faintly.

They were still and quiet for a long moment, looking into each other’s eyes. For a wild second Stannis thought she might kiss him, but he blinked and the moment was gone.

Stannis almost forgot his luggage in his flustered haste to remove himself from Sansa’s presence before he did something stupid, but eventually he managed to get himself and his belongings out of Catelyn’s car.

“Good night, Stannis,” Sansa said, having rolled down her window so that he might hear her.

“Good night,” he croaked in return, feeling fairly certain that he would be remembering how she had just said his name in a little while and trying not to touch himself.

He watched as Sansa closed her window, waved at him, and drove off. He felt completely rooted to the spot where he was standing, unable to even so much as wave back.

What in the seven bleeding _hells_ had he got himself into?


	5. Road Trip

Sansa was still half asleep when Stannis picked her up for their road trip south to King’s Landing. She had stayed up half the night because she’d just had _too many thoughts._

Scenes from the nameday party had kept playing over and over in her head, making her feel a spectrum of different feelings. Mostly it caused her to want to bury her face in her pillow and never go out into the world again.

She just _had_ to wear the white Martell. 

Why had she been so eager to see Stannis’ reaction to her most scandalous dress? She should have considered the risks.

The look on Stannis’ face when he had seen her almost made the humiliating scene later in the evening worth it, though…

She was fairly certain he had been looking with more than the usual amount of interest when she had walked up to him. She was also fairly certain she had robbed him of his powers of speech, judging by the way he had answered all her questions by nodding or shaking his head.

Sansa wished Jeyne was with her. She would have been able to rely on Jeyne’s opinion of whether Stannis was _really_ interested or not, and would probably have had something funny to say about the way he had been staring. She could almost hear Jeyne’s voice in her head.

_”Of course he couldn’t speak when he saw you. He had to keep his mouth shut so all the drool wouldn’t escape.”_

A giggle bubbled up at the thought, but Sansa was quick to stifle it. She didn’t want Stannis to ask her why she was laughing. They were still within the town limits, and it would be nice if they were a bit further away from Winterfell before he realised she was the sort of person to laugh at the jokes the voices in her head told her.

Thankfully he didn’t ask what was amusing her. He seemed to be pretty preoccupied with figuring out what all the buttons on the steering wheel did, though he was careful to always keep a very close eye on the road.

 _Why_ had Rickon had to spoil everything? She had been having such a nice conversation with Stannis before her clumsy little brother made him spill his water on her. It had felt incredible to have someone like _Stannis Baratheon_ say that her ideas were good, and that something she had suggested might actually make a difference and possibly help solve Jon’s problems at the Wall.

Stannis had looked so _embarrassed_ by the way her wet dressed had gone see-through. He hadn’t been able to cover her up fast enough with his suit jacket. She had really appreciated it because she hadn’t really wanted to flash everyone at the party, but at the same time she was weirdly disappointed that he hadn’t wanted to… look.

Sansa felt her face heating up, and she looked resolutely out the window for a while, zoning out and trying to make herself stop blushing.

Had she misunderstood the way he had seemed to like the view when she had first walked into his line of vision? Was he perhaps not interested in her at all?

Maybe he was just protective of her? In a fatherly sort of way?

The way he had invited her to come along with him on his drive south made her think it was not an attempt to get to know her as much as it was an attempt to spare her the train. They were now outside the town limits of Winterfell and he still hadn’t said a word; it was as if she wasn’t even in the car.

“I’m sorry about last night,” she blurted out, too sleep deprived to think better of it.

“Hm?” Stannis said, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Rickon bumping into you like that,” she explained, feeling her face heat up yet again at the memory. She would be able to blush on command from now on. All she had to do was think of The Accident.

“Oh, er,” Stannis mumbled, clearing his throat, “there is no need for you to apologise. It was no fault of yours.”

“Still,” Sansa said, “I’m sorry it made you uncomfortable.”

“I think your feelings regarding the event matter rather more than mine,” Stannis said, his grip on the steering wheel tightening noticeably.

Sansa blinked at him in surprise, a powerful feeling of gratitude coursing through her. She suddenly _really_ wanted to kiss him again.

“It was a little embarrassing,” she whispered, “but I don’t think anyone really noticed. You were so quick to lend me your jacket.”

Stannis inclined his head as if to acknowledge that he had indeed done so, but didn’t say anything.

“You saw, though.” Her voice was not even a whisper now, and she wondered if Stannis had heard her over the sound of the car’s engine.

The way his face was going very red indicated that he _had_ heard her, however.

She didn’t press him for a response, but after a lengthy silence he started to speak, his words stilted but very decisive.

“I am sorry that I played a role in exposing you like that without your consent.”

As prim and uptight as he sounded, she appreciated the sentiment more than she would have expected. It was strange because a part of her wanted him to be excited by what had happened, but a much larger part of her was full of relief at the respect she could hear in his tone. It was strange, but she felt close to tears all of a sudden.

“You make it sound so serious,” she said, trying to lighten the mood so she wouldn’t start bawling like a crazy person.

“You’ve had your rights stomped on enough,” Stannis muttered.

Sansa held her tongue. She had almost blurted out that she wouldn’t have minded at all if they had been alone. She’d show him whatever he wanted to see if he asked. She had known him for less than a week and she felt like she could trust him absolutely.

They were silent for a while after that, and though Sansa had brought some music along, it didn’t feel like the right moment to suggest that they might play it, and it would feel rude just to put her earbuds in and zone out. The noise of the engine and the tires spinning over the road was a little too soothing, however, so she ended up falling asleep.

***

Stannis had spent half the night trying to come up with a way to apologise to Sansa for what had happened with the glass of water. He knew it hadn’t been his fault, and he knew she knew that he hadn’t intentionally tried to ‘enter her into a wet T-shirt contest’, but he had wanted to think of something appropriate to say nonetheless.

To his shame he had spent the other half of the night thinking much less noble thoughts about the incident. But he rationalised that having perverted fantasies about Sansa and entertaining himself with his own hand was vastly preferable to bothering her with his inappropriate desires. As long as he was respectful towards her with his public words and actions it did not matter what he did in the privacy of his hotel room. And it was not as if he didn’t respect her. He respected her quite a lot. 

He just also really wanted to have sex with her.

Stannis was actually pretty certain that he had never wanted to have sex with anyone as much as he wanted to have sex with Sansa Stark.

It wasn’t just her body he wanted, however. It was probably insane to feel this way after such a short acquaintance, but he wanted to listen to her talk until the sound of her voice was as familiar to him as his own. He wanted to spend all his free time getting to know everything about her likes and dislikes, her favourite foods, her childhood memories, her hopes, her dreams, and anything she would willingly share of her secrets. He wanted to immerse himself in Sansa until she was an indispensable part of his life.

Unfortunately she probably did not want the same things.

Unfortunately she was twenty years younger than him.

Unfortunately.

He glanced at the passenger seat and observed her sleeping form for a brief moment, wondering whether he might contrive to find a way to spend time with her in King’s Landing. Maybe if he went ahead and planned that fundraiser she had suggested he might have an excuse to contact her and pick her brain for more ideas regarding the event?

He blew out a loud breath. He’d probably have to hire someone to plan the fundraiser for him, really. He hadn’t the first clue regarding how one would go about organising such a thing.

But if someone else planned the event, he would have no excuse to talk to Sansa…

It would probably be for the best. Nothing good could come of any attempts to sniff around her like a dog for scraps. He’d just cause himself unnecessary disappointment and probably end up as one of the ‘creepy stalkers’ in Sansa’s eyes.

His scowl deepened as he navigated the surprisingly well-maintained roads of the north, and feelings of hopelessness welled up inside him like freezing sea water. The gloom of oncoming winter fit his mood quite well, and the grey sky seemed to reflect his dejection perfectly.

A woman like Sansa would never be interested in a ‘tedious bore with a stick up his arse’ as Robert was so fond of calling him, and he should just accept it. He shouldn’t even allow himself his fantasies. It was weak, and it was pointless. Sansa might have kissed him, and she might have given him a few looks that he had most likely misinterpreted to suit his desires, but he was sure she wanted to find a young man to fall in love with. A handsome young man that would complement her and be _appropriate_ for her.

Sansa started to stir when noon approached.

“What time is it?” she asked, stretching as best she could within the confines of the car.

He told her.

“That makes sense. I’m starving!”

They stopped for lunch at the first place that looked like it might serve edible food: an old fashioned pub with a wooden sign declaring it ‘The Murdered Prince’. Apparently their pies were renowned.

“I’m sorry I was such boring company this morning,” Sansa said as they waited for their pies.

“Not at all,” Stannis said. Sansa couldn’t be boring if she tried. Even fast asleep she was enchanting.

Stannis grimaced when he realised how utterly besotted he was.

_Pathetic._

Sansa was shooting him a bemused look. “Be serious,” she said, “no one is interesting while they’re asleep.” Her face fell. “Unless I was snoring or doing something weird. Oh, gods. Was I talking in my sleep?”

Stannis stared at her, fascinated by the way she was working herself into rather an adorable panic. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he couldn’t help but huff out an amused breath.

“No, you were very quiet,” he assured her, reaching for his glass of water and taking a sip. Hopefully he wouldn’t manage to spill this one all over her.

Sansa blew out a relieved breath. “Good. I’m glad I didn’t embarrass myself,” she shot him a shy smile and took a sip of her lemonade.

After a few quiet moments Sansa asked him how the roads had been and whether they were roughly on schedule. He told her that he hadn’t had any trouble and that he estimated that they could reach King’s Landing by nightfall if they did not make too many stops. Sansa shoulders slumped a little at that.

“Oh,” she said, sounding disappointed.

He raised an eyebrow at her. Did she not want to get back in a timely manner?

“I understand if you’re in a hurry to get back, but I was just sort of hoping we might take the scenic route through the riverlands,” Sansa explained, biting her lip and thus making him want to agree with anything she suggested, “I asked my mother - she’s from Riverrun, you know - and she says the riverlands look especially beautiful in autumn.”

“We could,” Stannis said before he really considered the consequences.

“Really?”

The excited, hopeful look on Sansa’s face meant that he couldn’t back out, even though he had just realised that taking the scenic route through the riverlands would mean that he would either have to drive until very late in the evening, or they would have to stay at a hotel somewhere and finish the journey tomorrow.

It would mean more time with her.

“Yes, why not?” he said, feeling a little adventurous for the first time since… ever.

Sansa’s smile was almost _blinding_ in its intensity.

She went on to enthusiastically suggest about ten different places in the riverlands that she had grown up hearing about from her mother, wondering whether they could order some extra food to go so that they might have a makeshift picnic, trying to convince him that the Twins couldn’t be _that_ bad, and maybe they should stop to take pictures on the bridge.

Stannis just nodded along for the most part, feeling that Sansa might be the most endearing young woman he had ever met.

Their food arrived, two mince pies that were indeed quite good, and after they ate Sansa managed to negotiate a few sandwiches and bottled waters to go.

Once they were in the car again, Stannis entered the alternate route into the state-of-the-art navigation system that the rental came with, pausing in his work a few times to ask Sansa whether he was forgetting any of the locations she wanted to see. When the route was thus decided upon, they were off.

Five minutes on Sansa was humming. She had a nice voice, but Stannis could not abide humming. There was just something supremely irritating about it.

“Would you mind not doing that?” he asked, trying to mind his tone.

“What?” Sansa asked, sounding surprised.

“The humming,” Stannis explained, clenching his jaw.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was doing it.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Would you mind if I played some music?” Sansa asked, her words a little halting and hesitant.

“What sort of music?” he asked, trying not to sound very old and grumpy, but unable to bear the thought of listening to the sort of bubblegum pop young women often seemed to favour. He liked Sansa quite a bit, but there were _limits._

“Well, I have a lot of different things…” Sansa started to list bands and musicians. Stannis was pleasantly surprised to recognise a few of the names. He didn’t really listen to music much, but Davos often had the radio set to some station that played classic rock. He was familiar with some of the bands that the radio station liked to feature and told Sansa that he would not mind if she played some of their music.

“If you like the classic rock radio station we should just try to find it,” Sansa said, already fiddling with the radio.

“I doubt they have transmitters out here in the middle of nowhere,” Stannis pointed out.

Sansa stopped trying to find the station and started trying to figure out how to play the music she had brought instead.

The music was a nice change, he had to admit, and though he disliked humming, he found that he quite enjoyed it when Sansa occasionally sang along with the chorus in her bright clear voice.

Later, when he remembered this part of the trip, he would always think of the way the sky had seemed to become bluer the more Sansa sang, and how the tension that always seemed to be present in his neck and shoulders seemed to loosen and fade away.

Sansa was visibly disappointed when they arrived at the Twins.

“That’s it?” she said, scrunching up her nose.

“So it would seem,” he said, raising an eyebrow. He had told her it would most likely not be worth the stop. It was difficult to get from the north to the riverlands without passing the Twins, however, so it wasn’t as if they had gone out of their way.

“It’s a total ruin,” Sansa said with a frown.

Stannis didn’t say anything to that. He noticed that there were a fair few tourists milling around the bridge and was surprised by the sight. There were definitely more impressive old castles to explore in Westeros.

“Would you still like to take some pictures?” he asked, looking at Sansa and thinking that he would not mind taking her picture. Even if it would necessitate tolerating the _Twins_ as a backdrop.

Sansa tilted her head to the side and thought about it for a couple of beats. “Sure,” she decided, “the weather is pretty nice, and I think we ought to be able to get some nice shots.”

Stannis was actually quite glad to get a chance to stretch his legs. He hadn’t realised what a toll it would take on his body to drive for such a long stretch of time. He never usually did, and his body was not used to so much physical inactivity. At work he was always on the move, walking from meeting to meeting mainly. He had an adjustable desk that he could stand at because he knew exactly what too much time spent sitting on one’s arse could do to a man’s cardiovascular system. He had no wish to let the only body he would ever have fall into disrepair.

The walked around for a while, trying to find a spot where they would able to take pictures without other tourists getting in the way, and reading the information plaques that had been placed here and there. The history of the place was very interesting, and although Sansa knew some of it, Stannis had spent enough time reading military history to be able to add a few insights. He had been hesitant to do so at first, but when he had noticed a gross simplification on one of the plaques, he hadn’t been able to keep his peace. Sansa had been fascinated, and from then on she had encouraged him to tell her everything he knew.

He was certain that Robert and Renly would be rolling their eyes at him if they were in Sansa’s shoes, telling him he was being pedantic, that the details didn’t matter, and that it had all happened hundreds of years ago, anyway.

“... and it was the egregious violation of guest rights that made the Red Wedding such a shocking event,” he explained, glaring at the plaque that focused exclusively on how the Red Wedding had been horrible because a king had been decapitated. There was an illustration of how a wolf’s head had been sown onto the headless body, and Stannis scowled at it, finding it in poor taste.

“Oh, that makes sense!” Sansa said, looking excited, “guest rights are something we learnt a lot about in school. These old northern customs and beliefs are so interesting,” she added, smiling brightly.

Stannis nodded, pleased to hear that she had paid attention to such things when she had been in school.

“Let’s take some more pictures over there,” Sansa said, pointing at the midway point on the bridge where a crumbling tower stood, looking lonely and decrepit, “I think it will look good to have the river in the background.”

Stannis was happy to take more pictures of her. He had been using her phone to take the photos, but he was working up the courage to ask if he could take one on his phone. Would it come off too creepy? He wanted to think he wouldn’t do anything creepy with the pictures, but reddened as he admitted to himself that he might be tempted to use them for… inspiration.

He shouldn’t have worried. Sansa was perfectly happy to let him take a few pictures on his phone.

“Let me take a few of you,” she said after he had hurriedly snapped a few pictures of her, almost dropping his phone in his flustered haste.

“What?” He blinked at her in confusion. “Me?”

“Yes,” Sansa said with a laugh, “don’t you want a memento?”

“I don’t photograph well,” he protested. But Sansa was already physically dragging him over to the spot where she had been standing and holding her hand out for his phone. He was too distracted by the fact that she was touching him to really be able to resist her.

“Stand up straight,” Sansa instructed when she had gone over to the place where he had been standing, his phone in her hands and a look of concentration on her face, “put your chin down - no, not that much - yes, like that - oh, and put one hand on the rail and the other in your pocket. Yes, just like that!”

He hoped his face wouldn’t look as red as it felt in the pictures she was taking, but it was not as if he would be forced to show them to anyone. He would be able to delete them if he didn’t like them.

Sansa came over to show him her work, and Stannis was pleasantly surprised to see that he actually didn’t look as terrible as he usually did. He had a slightly lost look on his face in most of them, but she had caught him looking out at the river in one of the shots, and he thought he might definitely keep at least that one.

Stannis was about to ask for his phone back and suggest they start making their way back to the car when Sansa surprised him by switching the front camera of the phone on, and stepping right into his personal space to take a selfie of the two of them. He looked utterly dumbfounded in the first picture, and it made Sansa burst out laughing.

“Don’t look so surprised,” she managed in between giggles, “have you never taken a selfie with anyone?”

Of course he hadn’t. He shook his head awkwardly.

“Oh, but it’s so much fun!” she exclaimed, leaning into him without really seeming to notice how she was pressing herself _very_ close, distracted as she was by framing the shot of their heads and the blue waters of the Trident in the background. His heart was beating too hard for him to be able to focus on what his face was doing on the screen, and he kept looking at Sansa’s smiling eyes and forgetting how to breathe.

To his relief she didn’t try to cajole him into smiling, and seemed happy to smile for the both of them as she snapped several pictures in a row.

“Would you like me to take a picture for you?” a friendly woman in hiking gear offered, pausing near them instead of walking by. She was carrying a backpack covered in pictures of little blue fish.

Stannis wanted to tell her no, but Sansa accepted the offer before he had a chance to refuse it. He was relieved when Sansa handed her own phone to the woman, instead of giving her his. He did not want a stranger touching his things.

“This is a great spot for taking pictures,” the woman said as she started pointing the phone at them and snapping away, “you should stand a little closer to your father, though,” she suggested to Sansa.

Sansa giggled and shot him a playful look. “Oh, he’s not my father,” she said lightly, “are you, darling?” she added with a wink.

Blood rushed to Stannis’ face, and his stomach did a small flip at the sound of Sansa calling him _darling._

“Sorry,” the woman said with a sheepish expression on her face, “I always manage to put my foot in my mouth!” she added with a laugh. “Do you want to do a more romantic pose?” she asked, adjusting quite happily to the idea that they were a couple rather than father and daughter.

Sansa searched his face, biting her lip a little uncertainly. Stannis stared at her lips, wondering what it would be like to bite them for her. For some reason his undoubtedly foolish expression seemed to help her make a decision.

“Put your arm around me,” she whispered with a shy smile.

Stannis didn’t care that there was no good reason for them to be pretending that they were in a romantic relationship again. He just did as he was told.

“Aw, you guys make such a gorgeous couple,” the woman said as she started to take pictures again. She sounded remarkably genuine. Stannis supposed that Sansa was pretty enough to make up for his grumpy face.

Once the woman had returned Sansa’s phone, Sansa offered to take some pictures of the woman in return. She accepted the offer with a smile and Stannis stood behind Sansa and watched as she framed a very pretty shot of the cheerful woman.

They headed for the car shortly after that, walking in silence.

As Sansa was buckling herself into the passenger seat she shot him an apologetic look. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable back there. My sense of humour sometimes runs away with me.”

Stannis busied himself with starting the engine and looking around for stray tourists before backing out of his parking spot, trying to buy himself an extra moment to think. He had no idea what to say. ‘Please be my girlfriend in real life’ did not seem entirely appropriate.

“Will this be a regular occurrence now?” he asked at length, raising an eyebrow and attempting to seem unaffected and unruffled as the Twins grew smaller in his rearview mirror.

Sansa blushed and ducked her head. “Of course not, I just couldn’t help teasing the poor woman for making such a silly assumption about us.”

“It was hardly illogical of her,” Stannis muttered, annoyed with himself for feeling the need to point it out. “I am only a year younger than your father.”

Sansa’s eyes widened. “Really?” she asked.

He winced. She would definitely never want to have anything to do with him now that he had made her aware of his age. But it was not as if he could have entered into a relationship with her and hidden his age for the rest of their life together. He was being ridiculous.

“It’s just, I feel like my dad is much older than you,” Sansa said, shaking her head.

Stannis didn’t see how that made sense. He had a daughter who was only a few years younger than Sansa. Why would it seem like Ned was much older than him?

“I don’t know why,” Sansa added.

Stannis decided not to comment.

After a stretch of awkward silence - probably about ten minutes, though it felt like an hour - Sansa put the music back on, and soon the comfortable atmosphere that had reigned in the car for most of the trip returned.

They made a few more stops in the riverlands, sometimes to look at historical sites - such as Oldstones - where Stannis continued to correct every information plaque they found, sometimes to look at places that were renowned for their great natural beauty. Stannis felt very off-kilter during those stops, but did his best not to behave like a fish out of water.

They ate their sandwiches at a place near Riverrun where Sansa had suggested they stop to explore the woods. (Apparently her mother had loved them as a girl.) They had found a clearing surrounded by redwoods that were clad in autumn colours. Some of the leaves were already littering the ground and they crunched satisfyingly beneath their feet when they trod on them. The sun was low in the sky and would be setting soon.

“How much time would it take to drive from here to King’s Landing?” Sansa asked, turning her head to squint at the sun.

“Four hours, perhaps,” Stannis said, finishing the last of his bottled water, “without any long stops.”

Sansa nodded. “Do you want to try to make it there tonight?”

His back was not overly fond of the idea. Even with all of the stops he and Sansa had been making, he had been doing an awful lot of driving, and a rest would be preferable.

Sansa continued to speak before he managed to answer her. “I understand if you do, but I’ve heard of this bed and breakfast in High Heart, run by an old woman who is supposed to be able to see into the future, and I thought it would be interesting to stay there.”

Stannis made a derisive noise. “You honestly believe in that codswallop?” He really hoped she didn’t. It was difficult to respect anyone who could believe in _fortune-telling._

Sansa looked a little hurt. “No, of course not,” she said with a frown, “I just thought it would be fun.”

He immediately felt guilty for putting that wounded expression on her face. “Let’s go there,” he hurried to say, wanting to make up for his error. 

“Really?” Sansa gave him a hopeful look.

“Yes,” he said, nodding decisively. “Stopping for the night is the wise thing to do. It’s safer to drive during the day,” he added.

Sansa gave him one of her dazzling smiles, and he felt inordinately pleased when he remembered that he now owned a few pictures of her smiling like that. Even if they lost contact after this trip, he would always be able to bask in her smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Tommy! ♥


	6. High Heart

Sansa and Stannis stopped to take in a few sights and eat dinner in Riverrun, lingering for much longer than they had intended. Sansa hadn’t been able to stop talking as they enjoyed some of the best trout she had ever tasted, and she had even managed to get Stannis to tell her a little more about himself. If it had been a date Sansa would have called it a huge success.

Thus it was quite late by the time they headed for the fortune teller’s B&B. 

It started to rain when they were halfway to High Heart. At first it was just a tentative drizzle, and the windshield wipers didn’t have a setting that was slow enough. Soon the wind picked up, however, and the drizzle turned into a deafening downpour.

Sansa disliked the rain. Rain meant mud splatters, frizzy hair, and wet socks. Everything was a little dirtier and smellier in the rain. Wet dog was perhaps the most awful stench in creation, and whenever it rained in Winterfell Sansa had been unable to escape it.

Still, Sansa couldn’t deny that there was something undeniably cosy about listening to melancholy old music in the confines of Stannis’ rental as the windshield wipers worked overtime, and the sound of the wind and the rain added to the white noise of the engine’s purr and the tires on the tarmac.

It was storming by the time they reached High Heart, and it took them a while to find the B&B they were looking for. Eventually they stumbled across it, and Stannis drove Sansa right up to the door so that she wouldn’t have to walk too far in the angry, wet weather. Neither one of them had thought to bring an umbrella, but Sansa didn’t know how much use an umbrella would have been in such wind.

She watched from the warmth of the foyer as Stannis pulled away from the door and drove to the nearby parking area. He ran from the car to the house, using both hands to carry their luggage and thus unable to shield himself from the rain in any way. He was inside the house within seconds, but he was still quite soaked.

Sansa helped him get his coat off, and fussed over him the way her mother would have, feeling a little guilty about how dry she was in comparison. 

Well, for the most part.

Stannis looked rather lickable with drops of water running down his face and neck, and Sansa tried to surreptitiously shift her stance so that she could press her thighs together a little.

The fact that he was only a year younger than her father should have turned her off him, but it really, really hadn’t. Not after she had used the opportunity the nice lady on the bridge had afforded her to tease him. It had been too good an opening to pass up as it had given her a way to check whether Stannis only felt a fatherly sort of protectiveness for her or whether there was something more going on. She was pretty sure there had been something more than fatherly concern on Stannis’ mind on that bridge -- the way he had looked at her lips had been _hungry._

Unless she had just imagined it…

Their outerwear taken care of, they went looking for people who might be able to help them get rooms to stay in.

They found a young man in a room off the small foyer, sitting in an armchair and flipping through a book and looking supremely bored. Sansa looked around as Stannis attempted to get the man’s attention, and she noticed that the stately wooden house was decorated to suit the tastes of someone of Old Nan’s generation. There was a lot of antique furniture that did not seem to serve any discernable purpose except to play host to a lot of clocks, knick-knacks, plants and doilies.

Sansa started paying attention to Stannis’ conversation with the young man when she heard the man say that he couldn’t put them up for the night.

“What do you mean?” Stannis said, sounding very impatient and bordering on rude.

“I mean that I don’t have two singles like you asked for,” the man said, rolling his eyes, “are you deaf or something?”

Sansa watched as Stannis clenched his jaw. A vein on his neck started to bulge in a way that was a bit alarming. It was very apparent to her that Stannis would most definitely not say anything polite if he opened his mouth again, so she took over.

“Do you have _any_ free rooms?” she asked, keeping her tone light and pleasant, “a twin would do.”

“There’s just one room free,” the young man said, “and it’s a double.”

Sansa nodded. “Excuse us for a moment,” she said and walked a few steps away, hoping that Stannis would follow her so that they might talk without the man overhearing them.

“I’m sure there’s a hotel nearby,” Stannis said before she had a chance to say anything.

Right after he spoke they both heard the unmistakable sound of thunder in the distance. Sansa walked over to the nearest window and tried to see the outside world. Rivulets of water were making their way down the glass, and there was nothing to see except darkness. Sansa was about to turn her head to look at Stannis when a flash of lightning lit the sky up for a fraction of a second. She counted the seconds before the rumble of thunder reached them, trying to estimate how far away the lightning had struck. 

It sounded as if the lightning was not close enough to cause serious concern, but not far enough away to disregard, either.

“I don’t think we should go back out into that storm,” she said, biting her lip and gazing uncertainly at Stannis.

He blew out a breath and rubbed his face with one hand, covering his mouth for a moment. His hand fell away from his face when another, more ominous, crack of thunder reached their ears. Sansa tried not to flinch.

“You’re right,” Stannis said, his posture stiff, “it would not be safe.”

Sansa’s heart rate sped up as she realised that it looked a lot like they would be sharing a room for the night. It was not fear or panic that she was feeling, however. She was excited by the prospect of sharing with him, and thrilled at the thought that she might get a chance to figure out whether he had really been looking at her with hunger in his eyes at the Twins.

“We should go get the key for the room, then,” she said, somehow getting her voice to sound perfectly normal.

Stannis nodded at her. It was rather like the nods he had given her at Old Nan’s party -- more of a nervous twitch than a proper nod.

“Excuse me, mister… ?” Sansa said as they approached the young man again. She had the sneaking suspicion that Stannis would rather she do the talking.

“It’s just Thoros,” the man said, inclining his head curtly, “do you want the room or not?”

“Thank you, Thoros,” Sansa said, smiling her most polite smile despite Thoros’ appalling lack of people skills, “we would like the room, please.”

There was a small chest of even tinier drawers next to Thoros’ armchair, and he opened one of them with a squeak. There was only one key in the drawer and he picked it up and threw it for Stannis to catch. Stannis picked the keys out of the air with a smooth reflexive movement, but scowled reprovingly at Thoros nonetheless.

“Breakfast is served between seven and nine,” Thoros said, already flipping through his book again, “and your room is on the top floor. It’s the only bedroom there. You can’t miss it.”

Sansa thanked Thoros, but the man barely looked up from the book that seemed to be boring him to tears. Sansa gave Stannis a bemused look, but Stannis was already busying himself with picking up their luggage, and didn’t notice.

The stairs creaked horribly, and the carpet was a ghastly lime green colour. Sansa thought it was absolutely charming, and couldn’t wait to tell Jeyne about it. They were both studying interior design, and had long ago made a pact to go into business together after school. Jeyne was studying business as a minor for that reason, as it had been obvious from the get go that it would be Jeyne who would be responsible for anything to do with numbers once they had their company up and running. Sansa always tried to keep up with the financial sections of the newspapers so that she would know what was going on in the business world, but she did not have Jeyne’s knack for maths.

Their room appeared to be a refurbished attic suite, and Sansa almost squealed when she saw the matching lamps on the bedside tables. They were _pink_ and there were crystal ornaments hanging off the lamp screens, glittering in the soft light. It was precisely the sort of lamp she would have wanted for her room when she was five.

Sansa actually _did_ squeal when she saw the collection of porcelain dolls that had been arranged inside a glass cabinet in a corner of the room.

“This is so _cute,_ ” she said, walking over to examine the dolls. Her five year old self would have been in heaven.

Stannis was ignoring her in favour of exploring the en suite.

“Seven hells,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

“What is it?” she asked, raising her voice slightly so that it would carry.

“Come have a look,” he said, sounding mildly horrified.

Sansa’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock when she entered the little en suite. There was wood paneling on the walls, and nearly the entire floor space was taken up with a claw-footed monstrosity of a bathtub. There were decorative plates on the walls, depicting adorable woodland animals, and the soap dispenser was the same shade of pink as the lamps in the bedroom.

“Who puts wood paneling in a bathroom?” Sansa wondered out loud, shaking her head, “that’s just like trying to get mold to grow on purpose.”

“I don’t know,” Stannis said, looking around as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

“The bathtub looks pretty good, though,” Sansa said, examining the antique piping critically. It was clean and looked well cared for. She could tell that if the bathtub were in a larger, more tastefully decorated bathroom, it would be a very handsome centrepiece.

“I was hoping there would be a shower stall,” Stannis grumbled.

Sansa realised that Stannis would definitely want to clean up after getting soaked in the rain like he had, and blushed when she thought about that fact that he would have to be naked to do that.

“A bath might be better,” Sansa said, trying to sound nonchalant, “I’m sure your muscles aren’t any happier than mine after all that time sitting in a car.”

“Do you want to have a bath?” Stannis immediately asked, missing her point in a way that was really rather sweet.

“No, I’m fine. I had a shower this morning,” she said, shooting him an amused smile, “I think you should go ahead and have one, though.”

 _Stop blushing,_ she told herself. People had naked baths while being naked all the time. It was no big naked deal.

“That’s probably not a bad idea,” Stannis admitted, scratching the back of his head and pulling a face she couldn’t read.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Sansa said, hoping that she sounded somewhat normal, and not in any way like a freak who was desperately trying to picture what he might look like naked.

Stannis just nodded, already fiddling around with the taps and testing the temperature of the water that started to stream forth. Sansa stood and watched him for just enough time to make it awkward. He had to look at her with a puzzled expression on his face to get her to realise that she should have left already.

“Have fun,” she said, turning on her heel and hurrying from the room. She closed the door behind her and squeezed her eyes shut. What was wrong with her? Had she just told him to have _fun?_

She paced around for a while, trying to get rid of some of her nervous energy, but eventually she decided to change into her pyjamas and settle down with her journal. She tried to write something in it at least every week, and more often if she felt the need to clear her mind. She definitely needed to clear her mind now.

Soon the only sounds that could be heard in the room were of Sansa’s pen scratching at the pages of her journal, and the faint sounds of Stannis moving around in the water he was presumably submerged in. (Naked.) The sound of running water had stopped long ago, though the rain was still beating the outside of the old house quite loudly.

Sansa had only just finished her journal entry when the door to the en suite swung open, and Stannis emerged wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was wet and looked as if he had smoothed it back with his hands. Droplets of water clung to his sculpted torso, and Sansa swallowed nervously as she watched a drop make its way down towards his navel. His body hair was dark and long, and Sansa liked the way it was plastered to his chest, abdomen and his strong calves. Without looking at her, he hurriedly walked over to his bag, picked it up, and disappeared into the en suite again, presumably to put some clothes on. Unless he planned to sleep naked. Which she would really not mind.

“Crap,” she whispered to herself, picking her pen back up to write a little post script in her journal.

_P.S. I know I just said that I am determined to get over this insane crush and stop thinking about what Stannis might look like naked, but he just came out of the bathroom in nothing but a TOWEL, and he looked even better than anything I could have imagined. I mean, I knew he worked out, but OH MY GODS._

Sansa closed her journal and hid it in her purse. Her heart was beating uncomfortably fast, and she was having one wild thought after another. Should she try to find out whether he liked her? Should she take her pyjamas off? Ask him to sleep shirtless so that she could stare at his sculpted abs for the rest of the night?

She had chosen to wear the pyjamas she had brought along for cold weather conditions, and though they were made of a nice thick cotton blend and thus very comfortable, they were not very sexy. Sansa glanced at her bag and wondered how much time she had until Stannis returned. Should she change into a thinner top with little straps instead of sleeves?

It would probably make sense. It was bound to get warm during the night with their combined body heat and everything…

She jumped from the bed, changed her top and dove back under the covers in time to look like she hadn’t just been doing anything weird or unusual when Stannis re-emerged. 

Stannis was, to Sansa’s great disappointment, wearing a T-shirt and a pair of loose pyjama bottoms. They were both dark and plain, no patterns or writing or anything in sight. She had _really_ been hoping that he might sleep shirtless.

“I’m done in there,” he told her, putting his bag back where he had found it when he had been wearing nothing but a towel.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. She should probably go and brush her teeth.

When she returned, her breath minty fresh, her hair brushed, and her face clean and moisturised, Stannis was still standing where she had left him. He was looking at the bed with a very peculiar expression on his face; a bit like he was about to challenge the mattress to a duel.

“Anything wrong?” Sansa asked, trying to appear cool and collected as she headed for the side of the bed she had already claimed. “Did you want this side?” she asked, trying to think what could be causing him to stand still like a statue when he had to be just as tired as she was.

“I thought…” Stannis trailed off and looked at the floor.

“What?” She tried to sound patient and understanding, though she was dying of curiosity.

“I could sleep on the floor,” he offered, now looking pretty much anywhere except at her.

Sansa’s eyebrows rose to her hairline. Was he being serious? There was chivalry, and then there was just being _silly._

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, trying not to sound too amused, “the bed is huge, and we’re both adults.”

“Are you certain?” he asked, meeting her eyes at last. His gaze was piercing, and she felt herself blushing in response to it. She was pretty sure she had never been this attracted to a man before. Her adolescent crush on Joffrey had definitely not made her feel like _this._ It was as if her body couldn’t decide whether she wanted to spread her legs and throw him an inviting look or press her thighs tightly together to attempt to give herself some relief. She had come close to feeling this way when she had been with Willas in secondary school, but that had not happened this _fast._

She nodded, not trusting her voice to do anything except make some embarrassing moaning noises.

Stannis dithered for a little while longer, but eventually he gave in and crawled under the covers on the other side.

Sansa didn’t know whether to feel offended or amused when he attempted to make himself comfortable on the very edge of the bed, as far away from her as he could get.

Amusement won.

“You’ll fall off if you try to sleep like that,” she said with a laugh, “I promise I won’t bite.”

Stannis cleared his throat and went a little red, but he moved to lie in a more sensible place.

It was a bit anticlimactic when they both turned off their glorious, sparkly pink lights after bidding each other good night, but Sansa didn’t know what she had been expecting. That he would ask her if she wanted to ravished now or later? She almost snorted into her pillow at the thought.

She closed her eyes and tried to relax. It would probably be smart to attempt to sleep; they had a long drive ahead of them tomorrow. The noise of the storm was not abating, however, and soon Sansa was glaring at the window, willing the rain to stop falling and the wind to stop howling.

“Stannis?” she whispered after a while, wondering whether he was lying awake, too.

“Mm?”

Are you sleeping?” she asked, smiling at the silly question and hoping that he wouldn’t get impatient.

“Clearly not.”

“I can’t sleep,” she said, unable to keep a pout from creeping into her tone.

“It’s been five minutes. Try harder.”

“The storm is too loud,” she complained, trying to make herself sound as adorable as she could.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” he said with a sigh. He sounded a little amused, though. 

_Hah,_ her adorable voice still worked.

“Tell me something,” she asked, wanting to listen to him talk.

“Like what?” He sounded puzzled now.

“Anything,” she said, turning to lie on her side with her face pointing towards his side of the bed.

“Er, I read an interesting article in the Financial Times a while ago,” he said, still sounding confused.

“Oh?” Sansa wondered what sorts of articles he found interesting.

“Yes. It was about the effect of various marketing approaches for two different computer companies.”

His voice sounded a little hoarse, but it was deep and she could hear hints of his stormlander accent if she really listened. She encouraged him to go on, and felt only a little bit bad about paying absolutely no attention the actual words he was saying in favour of letting the sound of his voice wash over her.

She fell asleep feeling vaguely turned on and warm all over.

***

Stannis woke up with a very itchy nose. He brought his hand up to push the annoying ticklish stuff that was bothering him out of the way, but there was too much of it. He made an irritated noise and opened his eyes in an attempt to glare blearily at whatever it was.

It was hair.

Rather a lot of very beautiful auburn hair that smelled rather wonderful.

He became aware of the way he and Sansa had turned to face each other at some point during the night, lying on their sides. That might have been all right if it hadn’t been for the fact that Sansa was pressed up to him and he had an arm around her, holding her close. He was pretty sure he could feel her breasts against his chest, though of course there was fabric separating skin from skin.

He was almost sure she was still asleep by the way she was breathing, and he was very relieved she was as his cock was doing its best to drill into her thigh, and he was fairly sure she’d take offense to that.

He wanted to panic, but he also wanted Sansa to stay asleep until he could disentangle himself from this highly pleasurable, but highly inappropriate, embrace. Once he got himself free he would be able to run to the hideous en suite and hide until he calmed down.

With a deep breath and an angry internal glare at the part of him that was trying to convince him to just stay where he was, he slowly began to pull away. He listened intently to the sound of Sansa’s breathing as he turned to lie on his back, and was pleased when it did not change at all. He blew out a relieved breath and was just about to roll off the bed when Sansa shifted in her sleep to throw an arm and a leg across his body, cuddling up to him rather intimately.

Did there exist some sort of magnetic pull between his cock and her thigh?

Sansa sighed in her sleep and shifted her thigh around, most likely annoyed by the hard bulge that was poking into her soft flesh.

He had to bite back a groan at the pleasurable sensation her movement created.

This was _so wrong._

He shouldn’t have listened to Sansa’s logic last night. He should have slept on the floor. He had _known_ he would end up embarrassing himself, but the bed had been so tempting after a nice hot bath, and Sansa had acted so mature about it…

Sansa mumbled something and pressed herself closer. If he hadn’t been fairly sure that she was sleeping he would have wondered at how suggestive her movements were. There was something almost… deliberate about the way she was rubbing herself against him.

There was nothing for it. He had to push her off.

He counted to three in his mind and then struck: gently moving her thigh and her arm while simultaneously rolling away.

“Wha… ?” Sansa mumbled, opening her eyes to look blearily at him. He had made it to the edge of the bed, but froze when he realised she was awake. If he stood up now she would very likely see the state he was in. He remained on his back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

Sansa sat up and looked at him, yawning and stretching in a way that made it very difficult for Stannis to keep looking at her face rather than her chest. Her thin top wasn’t doing much to disguise the outline of her nipples.

“Good morning,” she said, still yawning a little, “what time is it?”

“Early,” he rasped, glancing at the window. The curtains were drawn, but judging by the quality of the light that was peeking through the edges it was perhaps six.

“Can’t we sleep for a little longer?” she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“Of course,” Stannis said, clearing his throat so that he would no longer sound like he had survived on a diet of whiskey and cigarettes for the past twenty years, “I was just going to use the facilities.”

“And then you’re coming back to bed?” Sansa asked, giving him a hopeful look.

He felt like he had just been dropped into some surreal alternate reality. Did he look like Renly all of a sudden? What had happened to make Sansa want him to come back to bed with her?

“Yes,” he heard himself say, and he wanted to smack himself for it. How was he going to hide his stupid erection?

“Mkay,” Sansa said, settling back down among the pillows.

Stannis walked to the en suite when he saw that she had closed her eyes, and shut the door carefully behind him.

He stood in the horrifying wood-paneled room and stared down at the bulge that was the current bane of his existence, contemplating his options.

His first option was to see if he could figure out a way to submerge his cock in cold water without making too much noise or taking very long about it. It might get tricky as he only had a sink and a bathtub to work with, but it could probably be done. That would definitely cause his erection to flag, but the blasted thing would probably just come right back as soon as he returned to bed.

His other option was to masturbate very, very quietly. It should buy him at least half an hour of being able to lie in bed with Sansa and not become ‘happy to see her’.

His hand made its own mind up before his brain decided on anything. It was already under his waistband, inching its way towards his aching cock. At first contact he had to bite back a hiss, and he closed his eyes in relief. The pressure of an ignored erection was one of the most frustrating feelings in the world.

He placed one hand on the sink for support and wrapped his hand tightly around his shaft. _Fuck,_ it felt good.

Stannis clenched his teeth and started to pump his hand up and down as violently as he could stand it while trying not to create too much of those distinctive noises that always seemed to follow along with this sort of activity. His eyes found the sink that was right in front of him, and he realised that the sound of running water might help mask the worst of the fleshy sounds. He turned the knob and cold water started to spurt noisily into the sink. It sort of made him want to use the toilet, but he had to finish this first. If he tried to piss with his cock in its current state he would only make a mess.

He knew that if he wanted to come quickly he would need to focus. And probably think about something filthy. Like what it would be like if he just abandoned what he was doing in favour of returning to bed with a gorgeous young girl who had practically been _begging_ to be fucked, tearing her flimsy little top from her body and rubbing his cock all over her perfect breasts…

Fuck, he wanted to put his cock everywhere where she would let him. His fist sped up to an impossible pace as he thought about fucking her gorgeous mouth, and then about making her spread her folds open with her fingers so that they could both watch as his cock stretched her open.

He tried to pant quietly as the mental image brought him all the way to the edge.

Maybe she would even let him fuck her in the - 

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he couldn’t keep a small groan from escaping as he started to come messily all over his hand, spurt after spurt of warm, viscous spunk providing all the damning evidence he would ever need to convince himself he was _pathetic._

It took him a little while to clean up, and by the time he was ready to face Sansa, he was almost hoping that she had fallen back asleep. For a moment he thought she had, but when he sat down on the bed she opened her eyes and gave him a sleepy smile.

“You should get a little more sleep,” she murmured, “breakfast won’t be served for another hour.”

Stannis nodded and hesitantly pulled his feet off the floor and rested his head on one of the pillows, both hoping that Sansa would cuddle up to him and that she wouldn’t.

At first he thought she would stay on her side of the bed, but as soon as he let his guard down and tried to relax and get some more rest, she was pressing herself against him and throwing a leg across his body again. Thankfully she would not be feeling any embarrassing bulges this time around.

“Mm, warm,” she mumbled.

He doubted he was as warm as she was. It was tempting to pull her even closer - on top of him even - because she was rather like a cosy electric blanket. With breasts.

Stannis felt a strange sort of haze settle in his mind, and it was a little like when his dentist had given him something that made him not worry or care about anything that was happening. It didn’t matter if they shared a bit of body heat early on a chilly morning. It didn’t matter if he let his hand rest on the thigh that was gently coaxing his erection back to life with it’s slow movements. It was okay that he was enjoying the way her breasts felt pressed up against him, and the way her every exhalation warmed the skin of his neck.

He wasn’t quite sure whether she was awake or sleeping, but her breathing was very deep and slow, and her little movements could easily have been either deliberate or random.

Stannis had no idea what was happening. Was this cuddling? Foreplay? Something else entirely? All he knew for sure was that it was probably not something he should be doing with her.

By the time her thigh’s movements had managed to get him hard again, he was feeling too warm and mellow to care. She was probably asleep, anyway. It didn’t matter if he let himself enjoy this strange stolen moment with her. No one would ever need to know that a bit of platonic cuddling was doing more to arouse him than any adult film he had ever watched. (By accident.)

Sansa was half on top of him by the time her phone’s alarm started to chirp, and he froze in panic. His hands were so close to being on her arse that he didn’t know who he thought he was fooling by pretending they were resting anywhere else, and his new erection was digging into her inner thigh very insistently.

Sansa moaned and reached blindly for her phone. She had to unglue herself from his person a little to manage it, but she came right back with her now-quiet phone in her hand. Somehow he had managed to use the opportunity to remove his hands from her backside.

“Morning,” she mumbled.

Stannis couldn’t answer her. He just swallowed and waited for her to react to his erection. This had to be what it was like to have one’s neck in a noose, waiting for the trap door to open...

“Do you think they make poached eggs here?” she wondered with a yawn.

Was she ignoring _it_ to spare him the embarrassment? 

“Probably,” he said, his tone cautious.

“Hm, I might eventually be convinced to get up then,” she said with a sigh, “this bed is heaven.”

 _She_ was heaven. Her body was heaven. The fact that she had yet to snatch said body out of his arms was heaven.

“Er, yes,” he said, clearing his throat and wondering whether it was possible to die from nervous anticipation.

Sansa blew out a dramatic breath. “I think you’re going to have to physically drag me out of bed.”

Stannis wanted to physically do a lot of things to her.

“I think you’ll get up on your own once you’re hungry enough for those eggs,” he said, trying to sound light and casual, and definitely not like he was in pain because he was digging his nails into his palms in an attempt to keep from rubbing himself against her like an animal in heat.

Sansa giggled, causing her body to shake a little. ( _Gods._ ) “You’re right. But first I really need the bathroom,” she whispered.

She got out of bed after that and shut herself inside the en suite, throwing a smile over her shoulder at him just before she closed the door. He had risen to his elbows to watch her go, but he collapsed as soon as she had disappeared from view.

What on earth was he supposed to think of all this?

***

Sansa smiled wickedly at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she washed her hands.

Stannis definitely liked her.


	7. Fortune Favours the Bold

Sansa knew it hadn’t been the most straightforward way of figuring out whether Stannis was attracted to her, but the opportunity had presented itself, and she had seized it. Stannis had definitely not been keen to push her away once she started to tentatively cuddle up to him, and if he _had_ reacted badly to her little advances she could just have blamed it on being half asleep. It was easy to be bold when one had such an excuse.

Still, she hadn’t been completely sure of his attraction until he had left for the bathroom at very early o’clock to do… something - Sansa blushed at the memory of the suspicious sounds she had heard - and then _returned._ The fact that he had decided to come back to bed had to mean that he had not been uncomfortable with what she had been doing.

Sansa bit her lip as she put the finishing touches of makeup on her face - she was opting for a very light and natural look for the day - and thought about the very fascinating, very decently sized, very _hard_ bulge she had felt twice now. She had told herself not to draw any conclusions from the first one as it was quite natural for men to wake up like that even when they were alone. It might not have had anything to do with her.

The second one, however…

The second one had clearly been a reaction to _her._

She ran a brush through her hair, still a little damp from the quick bath she had taken - and packed her toiletry kit up. She wanted to be all packed before going down for breakfast so that she wouldn’t have the rush the meal.

When she left the en suite she saw that Stannis had apparently been thinking along the same lines. His stuff was neatly packed, and he was fully dressed.

“Ready to go downstairs?” Sansa asked with a smile that was probably little more flirtatious than her usual garden variety smile. She resisted the impulse to play with her hair, however. She didn’t want to be _too_ obvious.

“Yes,” Stannis said with a curt little nod. He was clearly trying not to stare at her too much, and it made her want to throw her arms around him and kiss him. Unfortunately she had a feeling that such behaviour might throw him off.

Breakfast was served in a bright room with very large windows. Last night’s storm had left a lot of leaves stuck to the glass, but the sun was shining brightly, and the day looked promising. There were a lot of plants in the room, and Sansa was a little overwhelmed by the scents of ten different types of flowering species.

The other people in the room did not leave much of an impression on Sansa, though there was one family of three - a couple and their young daughter - that she gave more than a passing glance. The little girl was spreading jam on her toast with a singular sort of focus, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth.

Sansa was very pleased when a glance at the quaint little breakfast menu told her that she would indeed be able to get poached eggs. They were her favourite, but she had never got the hang of making them herself. They always came out all wrong.

“Did you want to make any stops today, or would you like to go straight to King’s Landing?” Stannis asked as they waited for their food. Thoros had grumpily taken their orders, looking rather like he hadn’t slept at all the previous night.

“I’d quite like to stop by the Gods Eye lake,” Sansa said, biting her lip and wondering if she was pushing her luck.

Stannis did not seem to think she was being too demanding, however. He simply nodded.

“It’s not really out of our way to stop by,” he said, “and I’d be interested in examining the ruins of Harrenhal.”

“Really?” Sansa smiled brightly at him. She wanted to look at the famously haunted ruins, too.

Stannis explained that he was curious about the ruins because the castle was frequently mentioned in his books of history, and that it would be interesting to get a proper sense for how big the castle was supposed to have been in its heyday.

Sansa almost squealed in delight when their breakfast arrived and the poached eggs looked absolutely perfect, but she restrained herself to making happy humming noises as she ate them. This seemed to amuse Stannis. It was getting easier to tell when he was amused the more time she spent with him. It was important to watch his eyes very carefully.

They decided to drive pretty much straight to Harrenhal, and depending on how much time it took to drive there and how much time they decided to spend there, to have either an early or late lunch by the lake as the weather looked quite pleasant. Sansa was sure there would be shops close to the ruin where they would be able to get some food.

“Would you like to see the old lady?” Thoros was back to take their plates.

“The old lady?” Sansa asked, feeling a little confused.

“The owner,” Thoros explained, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, yes please!” Sansa said, excited by the prospect of having her fortune told.

“She’s in the French room. Down the hallway and to the right.”

Sansa thanked Thoros and jumped to her feet. “Come on,” she said to Stannis when it seemed as if he were going to take forever to get up from his chair. He just raised an eyebrow at her when she tried to rush him, and walked at a dignified, sedate pace to the end of the hallway. Something about the corners of his mouth made her think he was being so slow just to mess with her.

The door to the ‘French room’ was open, and when Sansa saw the interior, she really couldn’t understand why it was called the French room. It looked more like a cross between a brothel and a fortune teller’s tea shop.

A wizened old lady with white hair sat in the middle of the room. She was perched on an overstuffed sofa and surrounded by velvet pillows with tassels. 

“Hello,” Sansa said, “Thoros said we could come and visit you. I’m Sansa Stark, and this is Stannis Baratheon.”

“Have a seat, child,” the woman croaked. Two mismatched armchairs faced the sofa the lady was sitting on, and Sansa chose the one that was a deep wine red, plush and comfortable. Stannis sat in the chair that looked rather like a Chesterfield.

“I expect you want your fortune told?” the woman asked, raising a nearly hairless eyebrow.

“Yes, please,” Sansa said, speaking before Stannis had a chance to say something grumpy.

The woman narrowed her eyes and stared at Sansa for a little while. Sansa didn’t dare move or speak, but she heard Stannis make a slightly derisive noise under his breath where he sat beside her.

“I see a stag, two wolves and a lioness,” the woman said after a while. “One of the wolves is pure white with red eyes. He is in trouble. The stag is powerful. He wishes to help the wolf. I can see that he will succeed, but only if the other wolf, the she-wolf, works with him and protects him from the lioness that wishes to obstruct his path. Should he succeed it will bring him great happiness and love. Should he fail the realm will be in grave danger.”

A tense silence followed the old woman's words.

Sansa could not make heads or tails of the strange prophecy, but a glance at Stannis revealed that he did not seem to be confused by the animal metaphor at all. His face did not betray much, but there was something in his eyes that convinced Sansa he was thinking very carefully about the woman’s words.

“Thank you,” Sansa said when it became apparent that the woman was not about to say anything else.

But the old lady was looking at Stannis and ignoring Sansa.

“She knows,” the old lady said, smirking at Stannis.

Sansa watched as Stannis went very red and hurriedly stood up from his chair. “Time to go,” he said, already walking towards the door to the hallway.

“You have a lovely house,” Sansa said as she hurried to catch up with Stannis, “and breakfast was wonderful,” she added with a smile.

The old lady acknowledged her praise with a nod, and that was the last Sansa saw of her.

She practically had to run to keep up with Stannis as he strode to the staircase and rushed up to their room.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, clutching at a stitch in her side and breathing heavily as Stannis walked over to their luggage and picked it up.

“Nothing,” Stannis said, his voice clipped, “are all your things in here?” he added, holding her bag up.

Sansa looked around the room to see if she had missed anything, and nodded when she felt sure there was nothing out of place.

“Let’s get going, then.”

***

Stannis had been driving in complete silence for half an hour. Sansa had not asked for music, and she had been looking out the window ever since they left High Heart.

 _”She knows.”_ The old woman’s words were bothering him quite a lot. The logical part of his brain was telling him that the woman had just said something vague that could easily be understood to mean a multitude of different things, but the part of him that was already panicking over what Sansa might be thinking of him was telling him that Sansa _knew._ Knew that he was attracted to her. Knew that he had been jerking off to thoughts of her ever since the train. Knew that he was _pathetic._

“Did you understand what the old lady said about the animals?” Sansa asked, breaking the silence at last.

“Fortune tellers always just talk nonsense and expect the people who are unfortunate enough to hear their ridiculous babble to fill in the blanks and attach some meaning to it,” he said, feeling irritated with himself for not being as certain of what he was saying as he usually would be.

“Well, how did you fill in the blanks?” Sansa asked, sounding curious.

“What makes you think I did?” Stannis retorted, trying to buy himself some time. Should he tell Sansa what the fortune teller’s words had made him think?

“Just the look on your face,” she said, “it seemed like you were less confused than I was.”

Stannis sighed. His interpretation of the fortune teller’s words would probably get Sansa to think about things he would rather she didn’t, but it was tempting to tell her his thoughts so that he could hear her opinion. And a small guilty part of him wanted to impress her by being able to interpret something that she had been confused about. He wanted her to think he was clever.

“Do you know the old family sigils?” he asked, deciding to tell her a little of what he had been thinking.

“Some of them, yeah,” Sansa said, and her eyes widened a little as she made the connection. “She was talking about two Starks, one Baratheon and a Lannister!”

“Perhaps,” he said noncommittally.

“A Stark in trouble… a Baratheon wants to help…” Sansa muttered under her breath. “That could be about you and Jon!” she exclaimed more loudly. 

“Or it could be about nothing at all,” Stannis said, not wanting Sansa to go on to think about how she might be the she-wolf who was supposed to protect him from a lioness. He wasn’t trying to be condescending, but he couldn’t see how Sansa would be able to protect him from something he couldn’t protect himself from on his own. Especially if the lioness in question was supposed to be Cersei.

Sansa sighed. “You’re probably right,” she said a little wistfully, “it’s like astrology, isn’t?”

He snorted. “Drivel.”

“Mm.”

They were silent for a few minutes.

“What do you think she meant when she said that ‘she knows’?” Sansa asked, her tone curious.

Stannis wished he weren’t driving. He would have liked to close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Who can tell?” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. He was fairly certain he sounded irritated and flustered, however.

“You seemed really bothered,” Sansa said, her voice gentle.

“I wasn’t,” he snapped, feeling his face heat up uncomfortably.

“Okay,” she said coolly, “no need to bite my head off.”

Stannis squeezed the steering wheel and took a deep breath. He hadn’t meant to be boorish. “My apologies,” he said, trying to sound suitably repentant.

“That’s all right, I shouldn’t have pried,” Sansa said, her tone kinder than he deserved.

Unable to think what to say to that, he ended up just grunting, feeling guilty and annoyed with himself.

“Shall I put some music on?” Sansa asked after a few minutes of silence.

He was relieved at the suggestion and agreed that she should.

The rest of the drive to Harrenhal was quite pleasant. Sansa occasionally sang along with the music, and the roads were clear, and the weather very fine. By the time they reached the ruins of the once-great castle, they had fallen back on the routine they had established the previous day.

“Is it true that Harren the Black mixed human blood into the mortar for the stonework?” Sansa wondered, having just read an information plaque about the castle’s origins.

“Allegedly,” Stannis said, grimacing slightly. “One would think that it was horrible enough that he worked thousands of labourers to death trying to build this monstrosity,” he muttered, “I don’t understand why people feel the need to invent stories about blood and ghosts and curses, too.”

“People like a bit of mysticism,” Sansa said with a shrug, “it’s interesting.”

“I don’t think so,” Stannis replied with a frown. He did think that the many key historical events that had taken place right where he now stood were interesting, however.

The ruins of Harrenhal were so huge and so worth exploring thoroughly that it was well past noon by the time they decided they had seen enough. They found a small bakery in the nearby Harrentown, bought paninis and a bit of pastry, and headed for the Gods Eye lake to eat. They didn’t have a particular spot in mind, so they drove along the road that encircled the great lake, looking for an appealing location. They found one easily enough, and soon they were enjoying their baked goods in the pleasant autumn weather, looking out over the water and trying to spot the island in the middle of the lake.

“I wish I had brought my bikini,” Sansa said, shooting him a cheeky grin.

“You’re not serious?” he said, not bothering to hide how appalled he felt at the thought of her stepping one foot into the freezing waters of the lake. It was probably unhygienic as well as cold. (The idea of her in a bikini had merit, however.)

“It would be something to brag about,” Sansa giggled, “having bathed in the God Eye lake.”

“You’d catch pneumonia.”

“Getting cold doesn’t make you sick,” Sansa argued, “you have to get infected with a virus or some bacteria.”

“Of course, but getting very cold suppresses the immune system and makes it easy for the viruses and the bacteria that are always around to swoop in and make one sick,” Stannis pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest. He had studies infectious diseases extensively when Shireen had been sick as a child. He had wanted to understand how it had happened. It had been frustrating when he had found out that there was no one to blame. That his daughter had simply been unfortunate.

“Still, I think it’s fine if it’s only for a little while,” Sansa said, not giving up, “if you warm up straight away there’s no reason why you would get sick.”

Stannis grunted and shook his head. Did she honestly want to bathe in the lake? Sansa really didn’t seem like the reckless, adventurous, ‘do it so that you can brag about it’ type. 

It was as if she had read his mind. “I wasn’t really being serious, you know. I’d rather stay on the bank and sunbathe than go in the water,” she said with a slightly crooked smile.

Stannis’ mouth went a little dry at that mental image.

“The sun isn’t warm enough for sunbathing,” he managed, trying to ignore the way his imagination was flooding his mind with visuals of Sansa in a tiny bikini, ivory skin glistening with sun lotion… Maybe she’d take her top off for a more even tan? Maybe she’d take everything off and just sunbathe naked? Maybe he could steal her away and take her to shady spot and run his hands and his cock all over her slippery skin and -

“Stannis?”

“What?” His answer came too quickly and too guiltily.

“I asked whether you wanted to go down to the water and look for a pebble to take as a souvenir?

“Oh - er - no,” he stuttered, feeling his face flush.

“Do you mind if I go find one? Or do you want to leave for the car?”

“I don’t mind,” he blurted, wanting her to go away for a minute so that he could collect his thoughts and concentrate on calming down.

Sansa stood up from the large flat rock they had been sharing. She didn’t walk away, however. She paused and looked at him. 

“What were you thinking about just now?” she asked, tilting her head curiously to the side, “I had to say your name three times before you answered.”

He stared at her, feeling trapped and panicked. He always had trouble coming up with lies whenever anyone asked him things straight out like she just had.

“Um,” he said intelligently, trying to stall for time.

Sansa just raised an eyebrow. Her eyes were sparkling and looking exactly the same shade of blue as the water of the lake.

His brain shorted out. “Sunbathing,” his mouth blurted without his permission.

“I thought you said it was too chilly?” Sansa said, her tone perhaps a little teasing.

“Well, yes,” he said, clearing his throat. “Weren’t you going to go find a pebble?”

Sansa waved her hand as if to say that it didn’t matter. “What kind of sunbathing were you thinking about?” Her tone was definitely teasing. Flirtatious, too, if he was not mistaken.

_”She knows.”_

“Why do you want to know?” he groaned, rubbing his face with his hands and trying to will his embarrassment to go away.

“Just curious,” Sansa said lightly.

Stannis removed his hands, took a deep breath and looked her straight in the eyes, searching them for answers. What did she want from him? If she was aware of his attraction, what was she hoping to accomplish by flirting with him? Did she want him to do something? Did she want him to admit to it so that she could laugh at him for dreaming of something that was so hilariously out of his reach?

Perhaps he should just get it over with, then.

He stood up and closed the distance between them, using his height to tower over her. He hoped it didn’t come off as too threatening as he did not wish to frighten her. 

“I was thinking about you, sunbathing in a bikini, because I am attracted to you,” he told her, his voice remarkably smooth and steady. Somehow the decision to come clean had removed all the anxiety and the panic. Confidence surged within him, taking the place of the uncertainty he had been struggling with for the past few days. Soon he would no longer be suffering due to the agony of not knowing whether he would ever stand a chance, and there was comfort in that. Rejection hurt, but it was better to have a clean break.

It was Sansa’s turn to blush, and for some reason it made him feel much less vulnerable to see her reacting to his words that way.

“You - you are?” she asked, biting her lip in that utterly tempting way of hers.

“Yes, and I suspect you already knew this,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her and causing her face to redden even more. It was rather an intoxicating sight.

“You mean because of this morning?” she whispered, chewing nervously on her lip.

“Yes,” he said, feeling much more in control of himself than he would have believed a few minutes ago. But he was a grown man, after all. Not a gormless schoolboy. He knew how to act in high pressure situations.

“Oh,” Sansa breathed, staring at him with wide eyes, “I suppose I did know a bit.”

“And?” He looked at her steadily, willing her to realise that he wanted her to tell him whether she felt attracted to him in return, or whether he was to be classified along with the Hardyngs of the world: an unwanted lecher.

Sansa blinked at him and opened her mouth a few times only to close it without uttering a word. Finally he saw as she straightened her spine and lifted her chin.

“I’m attracted to you, too,” she said, clearly trying to emulate his straightforward manner.

Stannis felt a powerful wave of relief, surprise and white-hot lust. This gorgeous girl was attracted to _him?_

Some of the uncertainty that he had been feeling since he met her flooded back, and he wondered what he should do with... all this. He hadn’t really expected her to like him in return.

“What, if anything, would you like to do about it?” he asked her, feeling that it was a good first step to make sure she wanted to act on their mutual attraction rather than assume that she would.

She was chewing on her lip again, blushing and looking very young and innocent. He tried not to feel like a very dirty old man for being intensely aroused by it.

“Do you want to…” she trailed off, looking down at her hands for a moment. When she looked up again she had arranged her face into something much less innocent. She was playing the coquette now, eyelashes all aflutter and lips parted just so. “Do you want to kiss me?”

He decided that actions spoke louder than words and reached for her, pressing the palm of one hand against the middle of her back, burying the other hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and glorying in the luxurious feel of it. It was like silk between his fingers, thick and smooth and perfectly soft. His mouth descended on hers hungrily, his tongue taking advantage of her parted lips to taste the hint of lemon cake she had just eaten. She accepted his invasion with a low moan, wrapping her own arms around his neck and pressing her chest to his. Her tongue was playful and curious, but he didn’t leave her with much of an opportunity to explore. She had lead their kiss last time; he wished to do what he wanted now.

The hand on her back started to roam lower as he did his best to devour her, and he wondered if she would protest if he fondled her arse. He really, really wanted to.

 _Fuck it._ What was the worst that could happen?

He grabbed at one of her round cheeks, kneading the supple flesh through her tight jeans, and groaned into her mouth when he realised he could use his hold on her to pull her body closer to his; bringing her into firmer contact with the erection that was already straining the material at the front of his trousers. Sansa moaned and held him tighter, seemingly quite content to let him grope her.

Feeling the need for more air than he could get while kissing her so deeply, he broke away from her lips and started to trail kisses down her neck instead. He licked at her skin and sucked lightly, taking care to stop short of marking her.

“Mm, _gods,_ that feels so good…” Sansa moaned, her voice dripping with sex. It made him want to carry her to the car, bend her over the hood, and fuck her right there for all the world to see.

After a little while of kissing and groping, Stannis realised that they wouldn’t be able to take things any further where they were standing. He needed to take step back. He needed to _think._

“We should - we should get back to the car,” he said when he finally managed to convince himself to let go of Sansa and create a bit of distance between them. His palms were already itching to go back to fondling her perfect arse.

“Okay,” she said, breathless, flushed and smiling.

They stopped to kiss each other several times on the way to the rental. It was a very short walk, but it ended up taking a ridiculous amount of time to complete it. Once they were sitting in the driver’s seat and the passenger seat respectively, they ended up leaning over the gear stick and kissing some more, their hands grasping at jacket lapels and the napes of necks and anything they could get a hold of.

“We have to stop,” Sansa mumbled against his neck, “we’ll never get to King’s Landing, otherwise.”

“You’re right.” 

They both sat back in their seats, staring straight ahead and breathing a little more heavily than they were wont to do.

“So - er - shall we get going, then?” Stannis asked, hoping she would say no. Hoping she would tell him to drive them to the nearest place where he would be able to privately take her clothes off and kiss every inch of her flawless skin…

“Yes,” she said, giving him a small smile, “let’s.”

Stannis looked at her for a moment, longing to kiss her again, but blew out a breath and restrained himself. He started the car with a disappointed frown.

“You’re pouting,” Sansa said, a laugh in her voice.

Stannis’ frown turned into a scowl.

“I promise we can kiss some more later,” she said, her amusement turning into something a lot more sexually charged.

He threw her a heated look, but had to turn his eyes back to the road quickly. He was joining the traffic on the kingsroad and it required all of his attention.

“I wish you would have kissed me this morning,” Sansa said with a sigh, “I really wanted you to.”

“You should have said.” Stannis’ heart beating in his throat. Honestly, why could people never just tell him what they were thinking?

“I felt like I was making myself pretty clear,” she giggled.

“I believe I was the only one presenting hard evidence of my interest,” Stannis muttered under his breath, not really certain he wanted her to hear him.

Judging by the way she burst into laughter, she heard.

“Yes, but I didn’t exactly pull away, now did I?” she pointed out once she had caught her breath.

“You started talking about _eggs,_ ” Stannis said, his frustrated confusion bleeding into his tone.

“In those situations it doesn’t matter _what_ you say, what matters is _how_ you say it.” By the end of the sentence Sansa was speaking in a slightly breathless, seductive little whisper. It was highly arousing and proved her point rather well.

“You didn’t sound like that when you were talking about the eggs,” Stannis said grumpily.

“I’ll make it up to you,” she promised, placing a hand on his knee and squeezing it reassuringly. It felt quite nice, and he was pleased when she left her hand where it was.

They didn’t say anything for a little while, and Stannis focused on driving and trying to wrap his mind around the surprising turn his life had just taken.

He tensed up a little when Sansa’s hand moved to rest just above his knee, her thumb rubbing lazy circles into the material of his trousers.

“You really wanted me to kiss you?” he asked, trying to distract her from what she was doing. It really wouldn’t do for him to drive off the road because Sansa was feeling him up and he couldn’t concentrate. “This morning, I mean?”

“Definitely,” Sansa said, moving her hand a little higher.

_Fuck._

“Anything else?” he asked, swallowing and trying to ignore how warm her hand was and how good it felt to be touched like that.

“I would have liked you to stay instead of running away to the bathroom when you woke up,” she told him, her voice coy and playful.

Stannis stopped breathing. Did she know what he had been doing? Had she _heard?_

“I wasn’t,” Stannis hurried to say, “I mean, it wasn’t what you thought.” He broke out into a sweat. This was horrifying. _Just focus on driving,_ he told himself, trying to calm down.

“What wasn’t what I thought?” Sansa asked, her tone light and a little amused. She was kneading the middle of his thigh and it just kept feeling better and better.

“Nothing,” he bit out. If she _hadn’t_ heard, he wasn’t going to incriminate himself by spelling it out.

“Were you doing something you oughtn’t have?” she asked, her hand moving to rest _very_ high on his thigh.

“No,” he said, speaking a little too quickly to sound convincing, every muscle in his body tense.

“You’re acting awfully strange about it.” Sansa was now ‘walking’ her forefinger and her middle finger from around his thigh, getting closer and closer to his groin.

Was it too late to change his mind? It was clearly a mistake to be attracted to this evil, _evil_ woman.

“Sansa, I’m driving,” he said, trying to sound firm and commanding, but coming off a little desperate instead.

“Would you like me to stop?” she asked, her tone the very essence of innocence.

Yes. No. Maybe?

“Er,” he said, blinking at the road ahead and trying to think with his brain and not his cock. … The cock that Sansa was now touching. _Fuck._

“Because I can stop whenever you want,” she said, the innocence in her tone was gone. It had been replaced with something devilish and flirtatious.

She was stroking him through his trousers, and Stannis had to use all of his mental faculties to keep the rental in the correct lane and pointing in the right direction.

A strangled sort of noise escaped him, but it was nothing any human could reasonably interpret as speech. He felt completely trapped. Asking her to stop would require some sort of superhuman effort, but if he allowed her to continue he would eventually make a mess inside his boxers, and then he’d have to sit in it until he could make some sort of horribly humiliating pit stop along the way.

“Sansa…” he begged, his voice breathless, “I’m _driving._ ”

Sansa pulled her hand out of his lap and into her own with a sigh. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he immediately said, “just… work on your timing.”

“I guess I could try to do that.”

There was silence for a few beats.

“Or you could just pull the car over somewhere quiet?”


	8. Impatience

Sansa knew she was being an awful tease, but she had every intention of letting Stannis have anything he wanted, so it wasn’t as if she were taunting him with things that were out of his reach. She was just… whetting his appetite.

When she and Willas Tyrell had been together in her last years of secondary school, he had often pretended to be exasperated with the way she liked to tease him, but they had both known that he had liked it.

 _”I didn’t expect you to be such a… sex kitten,”_ Willas had once said, bemused at the way she had ambushed him in nothing but a tiny pair of panties shortly after they had started to have sex. _”You always seemed so prim and proper when we were getting to know each other.”_

 _”I get enough unwanted attention as it is,”_ she remembered telling him, _”if I acted sexy all the time I’d never get any peace.”_

Sansa had really enjoyed discovering her flirtatious, sexual side with Willas, and it had been very difficult to break things off with him. But they had wanted different things in life, and eventually he had moved back to Highgarden to chase his dream of becoming a horse breeder, while she had stayed in King’s Landing to start studying interior design.

She hoped Stannis did not expect her to be prim and proper. _He_ certainly wasn’t. He’d gone from kissing her to groping her arse in no time flat.

Sansa had rarely been as turned on in her entire _life._

Fondling him through his trousers while he was driving was perhaps a little cruel of her, as he was clearly having a lot of trouble focusing on the road because of it, but she had already soaked her panties through and she wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him.

His voice cracked a little when he breathlessly begged her for mercy, and she decided to have pity on him. She pulled her hand back and apologised, squirming around in her seat and trying to get the seam of her jeans to rub up against her in a way that would provide her with some relief. 

“Don’t be sorry, just… work on your timing.”

Sansa suppressed a nervous giggle and told him she could try.

She squirmed around for a bit longer, but it just made her frustrated. She was curious about the bulge she had just been fondling, and quite keen to get his trousers off so that she could investigate every aspect of it in detail. She was aware that she had been the one to decide that they should get going and head for King’s Landing, but she had changed her mind. She wanted to stop somewhere and do more kissing. She wanted to do more _everything._

Her face burning with excitement, arousal and embarrassment, she asked if they couldn’t simply pull over.

Stannis’ eyes widened and she saw his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel.

“Are you - are you serious?” he asked, his voice cracking again.

“I want you to touch me,” she told him, making her voice as breathless with need as she possibly could. She hardly needed to try, however. She _was_ breathless with need.

Stannis took a deep, shuddering breath that made her clench up inside.

He glanced at her, and she met his dark blue gaze for a single heartbeat. Something as raw as an exposed nerve passed between them, and Sansa could have sworn she saw sparks fly.

The moment ended when Stannis looked back at the road ahead, but Sansa felt the car pick up speed. A slow smile of delight spread its way over her face.

Stannis took the next exit he could find off the kingsroad, and they drove along for a little while until they were ambling along a narrow country road, and then finally coming to a halt somewhere in the middle of nowhere, the car shielded from passing vehicles by a grove of conveniently located trees.

They looked at each other, silent and tense, and Sansa bit her lip a little nervously, wondering if this was a mistake. Shouldn’t they start by having a proper date? Was she really going to… do things with him? In a car? In the middle of nowhere? Where some random person might accidentally stumble over them?

“We don’t have to do anything,” Stannis said, breaking the silence. “I can just keep driving us to King’s Landing.”

It was as if he had read her mind, or sensed her slight trepidation. But there were forces at work within her that were rapidly overpowering all of her reservations.

His eyes were just _so expressive_ and his lips just begged to be kissed a little more. And her curiosity about the bulge she had been exploring earlier was really driving her crazy.

“I think we should move to the backseat,” she said, trying to sound confident and sure of herself. She was getting out of the car before he could answer her, hoping that he would follow.

He did.

She decided not to second guess herself after he closed the door behind him.

They sat beside one another and kissed a little hesitantly for all of thirty seconds before moving on to hungry, sloppy, impatient kisses, and Sansa was thrilled when Stannis got really passionate and started to bite and suck at her neck, making her gasp and moan. 

The urge to part her legs for him was growing stronger and stronger -- a primal instinct from deep within her that had woken up starved and determined. She _ached_ between her thighs. Ached with an emptiness that seemed completely unbearable. Nothing would be able to make her feel better except his cock. She just _knew_ it.

Sansa reached for the hard length that was straining the material of his trousers, stroking him a few times through the fabric before tearing herself away from his kisses so that she would be able to focus on getting his fly undone.

“Sansa,” Stannis hissed, sounding both shocked and intensely relieved as she struggled to get his belt unbuckled.

It felt like forever and no time at all, but eventually his cock was out, looking rather more impressive now that it was right in front of her like that and not a mysterious bulge. She could hear herself breathing hard as she allowed herself to tentatively trace a thick vein from the base of the shaft towards the tip with a forefinger.

“Fuck,” Stannis said, reduced to swear words and harsh shuddering breaths already.

Sansa watched in fascination as his length jumped and twitched as she let the very tip of one finger linger on him, exploring the texture of his foreskin. He was dry for the most part, though she could see a drop of clear liquid seeping out at the head. Feeling curious and a little wicked, Sansa used the finger she had been stroking him with to smear the droplet around. She brought it to her lips afterwards, her tongue darting out to taste his flavour. Salty and bitter, no surprise there.

Stannis had followed her movements with his eyes and he seemed to be experiencing severe breathing difficulties now that she was licking his precome off her finger.

Feeling curious about what would happen if she licked it straight from the source, she lowered her head to his groin and did just that.

“Fuck-fuck- _fuck_ -”

She straightened back up so that she would be able to see his reaction properly, tilting her head to the side and trying to hide the way she was revelling in the way he was swearing and losing every last vestige of his cool.

The way he had bucked up and tried to follow her mouth when she had pulled back had been incredibly satisfying.

“Could you do more of that?” he asked, looking at her with something like desperation in his eyes.

“We haven’t even been on a date yet and you want me to go down on you?” Sansa asked, pretending to be offended just to tease him.

She immediately regretted it when he blanched and started to stutter his way through an apology,

“Ssh,” she placed a finger on his lips to quiet him and smiled at him. “I would love to.”

She hoped he would do something for her in return, however, as she was already too hot and bothered to sit still and the idea of going down on him in the backseat of a rental was only making her wetter.

Stannis blew out a relieved breath and groaned when she bent down to start licking his gorgeous cock again. It was a bit awkward to position herself so that she’d be able to work without one or all of her limbs going numb from being all folded up, but she managed to find a way to get tolerably comfortable.

After giving him a few slow licks, just to get him suitably excited, she sucked the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around as if he were the most delicious thing she had ever had between her lips. She moaned as she did it, a little ostentatiously, to make sure he knew that she was enjoying this. It was probably a bit messed up, and her shrink would probably have a thing or two to say about it, but she felt a little like she needed to prove herself to him. Convince him that she was exactly the right girl for him and that he should definitely invite her to his bed to stay. Hopefully he would want to prove himself to her in return. She would enjoy that.

“Oh, _fuck,_ Sansa, yes, _please..._ ”

If she hadn’t had her mouth full of his thick cock she would have smiled at the sound of his voice. She was pretty sure she already had him convinced and she was only just getting started.

She let go of him for a second, maintaining eye contact with him as she licked her hand and then wrapped it around the base of his shaft, already sucking him back into her mouth.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he choked out, sounding just about as out of his mind with arousal as she wanted him to be.

She hummed and started to pump her hand and bob her head up and down in a rhythm that meant that if her mouth and tongue weren’t stimulating him, her hand was. 

After a while of maintaining that steady rhythm, she decided to up the stakes. He sounded like he was just about dying of pleasure already, but she wanted him to _remember_ this. With that in mind, she let go of the leather upholstery she had been holding onto for balance so that she could use the hand to fondle his balls instead. She timed it well, and made sure she started to caress his soft sack right as she took a deep breath and let him as far into her mouth as he would go without making herself gag.

“Fu-uh-uck!” His voice was cracked, and there was almost a slight whine to the way he was moaning for her.

She had only tried this a handful of times with Willas, and he always made her stop because it made her tear up, but she wanted to attempt it. She wanted to get Stannis to lose every last inch of control.

Remembering that it was important to relax and lean into it, Sansa started to press forwards, forcing Stannis’ cock deeper and deeper, until the head was firmly lodged in her throat and she was fighting her gag reflex and tearing up the way she always had in the past when she’d tried this.

“ _Sansa…_ ” Stannis’ hips were moving jerkily -- as if he were fighting the impulse to buck up and just fuck her throat, and she felt his hands come to a rest on the back of her head. He wasn’t pushing, so the weight of his large hands just felt incredibly sexy.

She had to pull back, and Stannis let her, but she only took another deep breath and started to take him right back in. He was a bit bigger than Willas, and it had been a while, but she _knew_ she could do better than what she had just managed.

“Gods, Sansa, you don’t have to - oh-fuck-fuck-” Stannis broke off, his words becoming an incoherent groan as she managed to fit three quarters of his length into her mouth and a little more than the head down her throat. She knew she would probably be a bit hoarse for the rest of the day, and her mascara was most likely running, but she didn’t care. The sounds coming out of Stannis were worth it. The way he was tightening his hold on her head and thrusting his hips slightly was worth it.

She wished she had the stamina to do more, but she knew her limits. This time when she pulled back she didn’t try to take him in deep again. Instead she started to use her hand and her mouth to find that steady rhythm that had made him moan nearly continuously before.

But this time he didn’t moan. He made guttural grunting noises, and he wasn’t even pretending to be polite anymore. He was digging his fingers into her hair and moving his hips in time with her mouth, almost at the point of humping her face.

She became intensely aware of the burning heat between her thighs, and she hoped he would be putting his cock in her soon, because she knew the ache that she was feeling, and she knew that it would only go away once she was well and properly fucked.

“Sansa-Sansa-oh-fuck-I’m-going-to-” Stannis words tumbled from his lips in an incoherent rush, but Sansa knew what he meant, and she got ready to swallow what he was about to give her.

It always surprised her how _warm_ it felt on her tongue when a man came in her mouth. She didn’t really think too much about it, however, busy as she was trying to make sure she got it all. She was fairly sure the rental company wouldn’t be thrilled to find mysterious crusty stains on the upholstery.

Once she was sure she had licked him clean, she sat up and tried not to sigh audibly with relief at the feeling of her circulation being restored in one of her legs. She glanced at Stannis and couldn’t suppress a smug smile when she saw the look of post-orgasmic bliss on his face. His eyes were closed, his head had fallen back, and it looked as if every muscle in his body had disengaged, leaving him slumped, relaxed and slightly open-mouthed.

Sansa decided to use the time while he was too blissed out to function to peel her tight jeans off. It was not something that would ever be accomplished very gracefully, and she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to do it for her without hurting himself or her in the process.

Once she was free of the constricting jeans, her shoes and her socks, but still in her panties, she decided to straddle one of Stannis’ thighs. She needed to feel something firm pressing against her, and she didn’t think he was at the point where he would enjoy it if she straddled him properly and pressed herself against his cock. He was most likely still a bit sensitive from his orgasm and would need some time to recover. Hopefully he’d be interested in some more kissing and fondling until then. She wanted to feel his large hands all over her, and she wouldn’t object if he decided to do some exploring with those long fingers, either.

She rocked against his thigh suggestively and started to pepper his face with kisses in an attempt to bring him back to her.

His hands started to roam over her torso, tugging at the T-shirt she still had on and worming their way underneath. She encouraged him with more kisses and moans, highly pleased that he was trying to get at her breasts. She _so_ wanted him to play with her nipples.

“Seven hells, Sansa,” he groaned, finally opening his eyes and starting to move his hands a lot more deliberately, pulling her T-shirt upwards. She helped him get it off, and squealed in delight when he immediately unclasped her bra. In seconds he had his large hands on her breasts, fondling them carefully and groaning some more, clearly enjoying the feel of them.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered, “so beautiful…”

Sansa knew she should probably feel a bit exposed, sitting on top of a fully clothed man in the back of a car wearing nothing but a tiny pair of panties, but she was too aroused to feel anything but titillated by it. It was fun and illicit, and _gods_ \- she just wanted his cock inside her. Now.

“I need you to touch me,” she whined, rocking against him more urgently, hopefully leaving a wet spot on his tailored suit trousers.

He started to run his thumbs over her pebbled nipples, fast light flicks that sent intense jolts of pleasure down to her centre, increasing the heat and the _ache_ she felt there and making her whimper with need.

“Please,” she begged, rubbing herself eagerly against his thigh. She looked down between them, hoping that his cock might be back in the game, but it only looked halfway there.

“Lie down,” he rasped, “spread your legs.”

She hurried to do as he asked, wondering what he was planning. Once she had managed to lie down he tugged at her panties, giving her a questioning look, and she nodded. He pulled them down and over her knees, stroking her thighs and her calves as he got them all the way off. She moaned at the gentle touch, already half in love with this large warm hands.

He positioned her so that her thighs rested across his lap, reminding her to spread herself open with a touch. It was a little awkward, but she didn’t care about the strange position. All she cared about was the fact that he could easily reach her with his hands. And reach he did.

Without so much as a warning he plunged two fingers inside, rubbing circles right where she needed him to with his thumb. He wasn’t really pushing his fingers in and out of her, focusing on moving his thumb instead, but she thought she could feel him sort of wiggling his fingers strangely. Scissoring them? It was not what she needed, but it was interesting and not something Willas had ever done.

“Tell me what you like,” he whispered, bringing his other hand to join the first. He pulled the two fingers that he’d pushed inside of her back out and brought the pads of four long fingers up to take over the work his thumb had been occupied with. It felt _wonderful._ The other hand made sure she was not left empty for long. He pushed three fingers inside and started to pump fast, filling the car with obscene wet sounds.

“That,” Sansa moaned, “I like that.” It surprised her, as she usually didn’t like being fingered all that much. Fingers just felt sharp compared to a nice blunt cock.

“Do you have any idea how wet you are?” Stannis asked, his voice deeper than it usually was and quite hoarse. He was breathing deeply, and Sansa got the feeling that he was trying to inhale her scent.

“Some idea, yeah,” she said, “I’ve been so turned on since this morning,” she purred, wanting to do anything in her power to get him back to being hard.

Stannis’ hands spend up slightly, and Sansa decided to say more. “I’ve been thinking about doing illicit things with you all day…”

He took another deep, shuddering breath, sounding overwhelmed and _very_ horny. When she looked at him, she found him staring back at her, flushed, sweaty and intense. His lips were slightly parted, and his nostrils flared ever time he inhaled.

“Do you… do you want to...?” he asked, sounding a little uncertain, “or would you like me to keep going with my hands?”

“I want it,” she hurried to say, unable to disguise the slight whine in her tone, “please,” she added, remembering her manners.

She moaned more loudly than ever when he moved to climb on top of her, almost wishing that she could watch from outside her own body as she thought they probably made for an erotic visual. He was still fully dressed, though his fly was undone and his cock was out, while she was completely naked underneath him. All thoughts of visuals flew from her mind when he encouraged her to lift her legs to cradle him between her thighs and she felt the head of his cock nudge her entrance.

“Yes, please, yes,” she gasped out, grabbing his arse and pulling him forwards.

The head slipped inside, but he tensed up and resisted her pull.

“Birth control?” he asked, shaking with the effort of keeping himself still.

“Don’t worry, I’m on the pill,” she said, pulling more insistently on him.

“But… wouldn’t a condom… ?”

“No, it’s fine, _please,_ ” she begged, changing her tactic and lifting her hips in an attempt to impale herself on his perfect, _thick_ delicious cock.

Stannis grunted and gave into gravity, filling her to the hilt with a few determined thrusts. She was wet enough to make it totally painless, but she was very aware of the fact that her inner muscles hadn’t had to accommodate anything of that size for a good long while. The stretch felt sinfully good, and the empty ache that had been driving her crazy for what felt like an eternity was _finally_ going away.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Stannis hissed into her ear, sounding out of breath.

“It’s been a while,” she admitted, “and you’re not exactly small,” she added, squeezing him deliberately on the inside just to see what sort of reaction she’d get.

He made a strange choked, gulping sort of sound and thrust his hips in a way that she was almost certain had been involuntary.

“I’m not?” he asked, starting to make hesitant shallow thrusts.

Sansa almost rolled her eyes. Men were always complaining about how women fished for compliments, but as soon as their cocks were out they were shameless whores for praise.

“I’ve never been with anyone this big,” she whispered, making her voice as breathless and flirtatious as she could.

He started to thrust more confidently, groaning with pleasure. He clearly liked his ego stroked.

“You’re making me feel _so full,_ ” she moaned, perfectly willing play this game.

“Yeah?” he gasped out, starting to fuck her harder.

It felt amazing. Satisfying on every single level, but still making her crave more.

“Oh, _gods_ yes!” she cried out, “you feel _so_ good.”

“You like this?” he asked, pulling out almost the whole way and slamming himself back in with a loud smack of skin against skin, “you want more?”

“Yes-yes-yes,” she gasped. She was quickly losing the ability to make any articulate sounds, and as he continued to slam himself into her, again and again, fucking her just the way she needed to be fucked, she wordlessly keened with pleasure.

After a little while he pulled on her legs, making her point them straight up and rest against his chest as he rose to his knees, careful not to bump his head against the roof of the car. Once he seemed pleased with his new position he began to drive himself into her at an angle that never failed to bring her off. She wondered if he had somehow figured that out, or if it was just a coincidence.

She started to come almost as soon as he started to move, practically sobbing as he snapped his hips to create the most overwhelming sensations of pleasure for her.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “I can feel you coming.”

She couldn’t answer him. All she could do was make incoherent sounds of pleasure as he sped up and grabbed her ankles, spreading her legs as far as he could within the confines of the backseat, fucking her with the sort of force that would have had the headboard banging against the wall had they been in bed, and probably had the car rocking. She wasn’t quite sure whether she was grateful or annoyed that her back was stuck to the leather seats beneath her as it was both a little uncomfortable but also probably saving her head from getting knocked into the car door.

Her orgasm reached a peak that had her screaming, the muscles of her entire abdomen convulsing, her hands ineffectively reaching for something to hold onto.

Stannis was grunting in a way that convinced Sansa he was in the middle of his own release, and she forced her eyes to open so that she could watch his face as he came. It was not the most attractive look in the world, but there was something very erotic and satisfying about it nonetheless. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his mouth was twisted into a bit of a snarl. Judging by the beads of sweat on his forehead and the flushed colour of his skin, he would definitely need to change his clothes after this.

She closed her eyes again, determined to enjoy the rest of the ride while she could.

When they broke apart, Sansa peeled herself off the upholstery with a grimace, trying to get into a seated position in a way that would minimize the mess. She had a feeling she might need to bring some wet wipes to the backseat before Stannis returned the rental despite her efforts, but at least the leather meant that it should be possible to wipe any… spills off with relative ease.

They sat side by side for a little while, and Sansa tried not to fret about cleaning up. She wanted to enjoy the afterglow. It had been a very long time since she’d had an orgasm like that, and the lingering effect of it was more intense than she had expected. Her muscles felt butter-soft and relaxed, the ache that had been bothering her had been replaced by the different, much more satisfying, ache of having had certain muscles stretched, and she felt warm all over, her face particularly hot and tingly.

“That was incredible,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence and leaning her head to rest it on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

“Yes,” he agreed. 

Sansa got the feeling that he was not up to saying anything more complicated right away, which was very gratifying.

“We should do it again sometime,” she said, trying to sound light and breezy instead of nervous.

“Yes,” Stannis repeated, more firmly this time.

She stopped herself from asking all the questions that she had been taught would scare men off, but she really wished she could just find out right away whether he wanted her to be his girlfriend. She really wanted to be, and she was fairly optimistic that things were headed in that direction. Stannis was not like Robert. He didn’t have a different girl on his arm depending on what day of the week it was. Stannis was _serious._

Sansa had tissues in her purse and they used them to clean themselves up the best they could. She found her clothes and put them back on, gratefully accepting her bag from Stannis so that she could find a clean pair of panties. He had gone to the trunk to get his own luggage as he needed a change of clothes after his exertions and grabbed her bag while he was at it. Sansa knew that they could both really do with a shower, but tissues and deodorant was all they had, so they made do.

Eventually they were sitting in the driver’s seat and the passenger seat, looking a little rumpled, but mostly respectable.

“Next stop, King’s Landing?” Sansa said, shooting Stannis a slightly uncertain smile.

He quirked his lips in response and nodded.

The car came to life and soon they were joining the flow of traffic on the kingsroad, occasionally exchanging heated looks.


	9. Getting Familiar

Stannis had a very difficult time of it when he had found Sansa’s apartment building and parked outside. He did not want her to leave and he did not want their trip to be at an end. He wanted to take her home with him instead, and repeat everything they had done in the backseat of the car more slowly so that he could savour every second.

She had been perfect. Better than his fantasies, and better than anything he could ever have imagined.

Just the blowjob by itself…

He took a deep breath and looked at Sansa. She had been sitting quietly beside him since he had parked the car.

“I suppose this is the end of the line for me,” she said, giving him a small smile.

He hummed, unsure what to say.

“Would you like my number?” she asked, blushing as she met his eyes.

“Yes,” he immediately blurted out, not even trying to sound dignified.

She smiled and asked for his phone so that she could add herself as a contact. He almost dropped the thing in his haste to hand it over.

“Is it okay if I send myself a text so that I’ll have your number, too?”

“Of course,” he said, his mind already racing ahead and wondering whether she’d like to text him little messages on days where they wouldn’t be able to see each other, just so that he could know how she was doing…

“I’d like to take you to dinner soon,” he hurried to say, realising that he wanted to see her again without too much of a delay. Texting would not be enough to tide him over.

“That would be great!” Sansa was smiling so widely that his facial muscles started to ache sympathetically.

“Tomorrow?” he suggested, wondering if he was coming off as too eager.

 _Too eager?_ They had already had sex in the backseat of a car. It was a bit too late to play it cool. He almost rolled his eyes at himself.

“Yes, definitely,” Sansa agreed, “I’ll look forward to seeing you.”

“Likewise,” he said, attempting to sound cultured and sophisticated. He almost rolled his eyes again. Did cultured and sophisticated men fuck girls in the backseats of rental vehicles?

Sansa closed the distance between them and kissed him. It was only a chaste peck on the lips, but it made his heart start to beat almost as frantically as it had been beating when she had put those same lips on his cock.

“Do you need help with your bag?” He hoped she would say yes. He wanted an excuse to stay in her presence a little longer.

“Oh, that’s thoughtful of you,” she said, giving him a grateful look, “thank you.”

Sansa’s apartment was on the second floor, but Stannis almost wished she was up on the fifth. Every second in her company was precious, and even trudging up stairs with a moderately heavy bag did not seem like much of a chore with her nearby.

“Do you want me to check if Jeyne is home?” Sansa asked when they arrived outside her door, biting her lip and giving him a searching look.

Was she suggesting more sex? He’d not say no to that…

The door swung open before Stannis had a chance to answer.

“Sansa?” A pretty brunette with warm brown eyes stood before them. “I thought I heard your voice.”

Stannis was relatively certain the brunette was none other than Jeyne Poole, Sansa’s roommate. Sansa had mentioned her a few times.

“Oh, hello?” Jeyne had noticed him and was giving him a curious once-over.

“Hi, Jeyne, this is Stannis Baratheon,” Sansa said, “I hitched a ride to King’s Landing with him. He’s - um - he’s a friend of the family.”

Jeyne raised an eyebrow at Sansa.

“Why do I even try?” Sansa muttered to herself. “We’re going on a date tomorrow,” she added, shooting her friend an irritated look.

“Ooh, I see. Do you want me to go to the library for a while?” Jeyne asked with a grin.

Sansa opened her mouth, closed it, and blushed a rather fetching shade of crimson. She looked at him for help.

As much as Stannis would have liked to explore Sansa’s bedroom with her, he didn’t feel entirely right about kicking Jeyne out of her home to do it. It would feel strange to know that Jeyne would be completely aware of what they would be getting up to in her absence.

“Er, I think I had better get going. I need to return the rental,” he said, trying to sound less awkward than he felt and probably failing.

Sansa looked both disappointed and relieved. He tried not to be offended at the relief. He was sure was just glad that she wouldn’t have to kick her roommate out and then tolerate the good-natured teasing she would most likely receive because of it.

“Okay,” she said, nodding at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

He nodded. “I’ll be in touch regarding the time, but I expect I will pick you up here a little before eight.”

Sansa accepted her bag from him and they exchanged slightly awkward good-byes as Jeyne was watching them like a hawk.

As he turned to leave and Sansa and Jeyne disappeared into the apartment, he heard faint sounds of high-pitched squealing on the other side of the door. He paused and furrowed his brow, wondering if they had spotted a mouse or something, but then felt his face heat up as he realised they were most likely acting that way because of him.

He was not the sort of man young girls made sounds like that over.

Stannis hurried to the stairwell, feeling embarrassed but a little gratified all the same.

***

Stannis didn’t know why he had decided to take Sansa to a restaurant out in public. It would have been much smarter to take her to his house. He had food there, and they’d be able to eat some after they had rolled around naked on his bed for an hour or two.

Sitting across from Sansa and having to pretend to be a cultured, sophisticated adult instead of the horny idiot he felt like in her presence was a lot more difficult than he had convinced himself it would be.

She looked quite as stunning as she had at Old Nan’s nameday party. She wasn’t wearing the white Oberyn Martell, but the dark green dress she had painted on wasn’t leaving much to the imagination. The neckline dipped so low that Stannis was convinced that he would see her navel if she bent forward just a little. Her face was expertly made up again, and the blood-red lipstick she was wearing was driving him to distraction. He wanted to smudge it all over her face, and then get her to smudge it all over his cock, too...

He gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue to update her on the progress that had already been made regarding her fundraiser idea.

“My assistant is making enquiries, and tells me that I should be able to interview two or three people soon. Once I find someone competent to organise the event, I’m sure it will just be a matter of approving the guest list and showing up on time.”

“Sounds lovely,” Sansa said, sipping her wine slowly and gazing at him over the rim of her glass.

“One has to know when to delegate,” Stannis said, clearing his throat and feeling a sudden need to loosen his tie. The look Sansa was giving him was making him feel like he was standing next to a furnace.

“Mm, but I suppose there are some things that only you can do?” Sansa asked, putting her glass down.

Stannis was about the answer when he felt her foot stroking the inside of one of his legs. She seemed to have slipped out of her shoe, and her stocking-clad foot was already making its way up towards his knee. He forgot what he had been about to say in favour of checking three times in a row whether there was definitely a tablecloth covering the table. He didn’t want any of the other diners to know that Stannis Baratheon was playing _footsie._

Or rather, that someone was playing footsie with him.

“So?” Sansa said, prompting him to answer her question. She looked for all the world as if she were definitely not in the middle of poking her foot in between his knees and slowly making her way along his thighs towards his groin.

“What?” He had forgotten the question.

“Are there things that you are uniquely qualified to do?” she asked, tilting her head to the side and taking another sip of her wine.

“Uniquely…” Stannis trailed off in order to stifle a groan. Her foot was now massaging his growing erection through his trousers. This was completely inappropriate.

“Uniquely qualified,” she helpfully supplied, seeing that he was struggling.

“Er, yes, I - I have that. Am that, I mean,” he stammered, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment and arousal.

“Oh, how so?” she asked, looking at him as if he were absolutely fascinating. He was fully hard and her foot was making him feel better than any foot really should be able to.

“I would like to tell you,” Stannis said, struggling to keep his voice normal, “but I can’t right now.”

“From what I’ve read in the papers about you it seems you run your business like some sort of general,” Sansa said, helping him along.

“Discipline is important,” he choked out. Some water would be good. He reached for his glass and brought it to his lips, needing to cool down.

“Are you very disciplined?”

Stannis almost choked on his water when she asked that question right as she pressed her foot quite firmly against his erection.

“Usually,” he said, feeling his face get even hotter.

Thankfully their waiter arrived before she could respond to that, and she retracted her foot.

Stannis didn’t pay any attention while the waiter told them what was on their plates and offered them freshly ground pepper. The man had to ask him twice whether he wanted the pepper because Stannis forgot to answer.

He’d get her back for that stunt once they were alone. Sansa clearly needed some discipline.

***

Sansa didn’t quite know why, but she _revelled_ in teasing Stannis. She loved the way he stiffened up (in more than one way) and looked half panicked, half aroused. She loved the way he got all tongue-tied and flustered. She loved the way his eyes darkened, hinting at good things to come.

But dinner was pretty good, too.

Still, she was glad when it was time to leave the restaurant.

“I think you should show me your house,” Sansa suggested as they walked towards Stannis’ car.

“I agree,” Stannis said, opening the passenger-side door for her.

His house was… not what she had expected.

Instead of some huge flashy structure of glass and steel there was a modestly proportioned place, shrouded in the sort of quiet dignity that only seemed to exist around old, well-cared for buildings. Sansa knew it was probably worth a small fortune because of the location - right on the waters of Blackwater Bay - but there was nothing ostentatious about it. Nothing that screamed: ‘a fabulously wealthy, powerful man lives here!’

As soon as she thought about it, however, she didn’t know why she had expected some glass monstrosity. That wasn’t Stannis. 

This house, however, had a lot in common with him.

Seen from the outside it looked practical, unassuming, and a little severe. But on the inside…

“Oh, my gods, the view is _amazing!_ ” Sansa rushed over to the huge bay windows in the living room and almost pressed her nose to the glass. It was almost completely dark outside, but the streetlights and the vestiges of dark blue and purple in the sky allowed her to see the dark waters of the aptly named bay. The location of Stannis’ house also allowed for a partial view of the city, and the lights were dazzlingly beautiful from a distance.

“I thought you would notice the furniture,” Stannis said, sounding a little amused, “aren’t you studying to be an interior decorator?”

“I can still appreciate a good view,” Sansa said, giving him a quick once-over and a cheeky smile.

***

Stannis let his eyes travel slowly from her eyes and down over her body, remembering what she looked like naked and enjoying the fact that he had that sort of knowledge. When he reached her feet, encased in their uncomfortable-looking high heels, he let his eyes travel right back up, taking his time about it. When he made it back to her face, he was pleased to note that she looked quite flushed, and that her eyes were significantly darker than they had been before.

“I can appreciate a good view, too,” he said in a low voice.

“Oh,” Sansa said, taking a deep breath that looked rather like it might cause her dress to split open, “where’s the bedroom?”

“Upstairs,” he said, trying to sound casual. It was difficult to pull off as he was intensely excited by the prospect of having her in his bed. He was going to do very, _very_ bad things with her.

She walked ahead of him up the stairs and he stared at her arse the whole time, unashamedly enjoying the view.

His bedroom door was ajar, so Sansa headed towards it without asking for directions. It was difficult to keep from pouncing on her as soon as they were both close enough to the bed, but he wanted to take things a little more slowly this time around. The sex they’d had in the car had been frantic and rushed, and though it had its appeal and its charm, Stannis really wanted to show Sansa that he knew what he was doing. He wanted to impress her.

… And get her back for all the teasing she had been doing.

She might have been able to fluster him when he had been uncertain of whether she wanted him or when they were out in public, but they were safely ensconced in his bedroom now. He felt confident, secure and in control, and he intended to show her that.

Sansa was looking a little uncertain of herself, fiddling with her clutch and looking around the room with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness. Funnily enough, her bravado seemed to have faded away as his confidence had increased, and her demeanour was that of a young doe, exploring unfamiliar surroundings, her long legs taking measured, careful steps. Something about her wide eyes and parted lips made him want to _capture_ her. Trap her beneath his bulk and watch her realise that she was caught, and then see the expression on her face when she yielded to him, willingly and eagerly.

But before he caught her, he wanted her naked.

He strode towards her, taking her clutch and putting it down on his chest of drawers. He kissed her once, very deliberately, and stroked her bare shoulders with his thumbs. She tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back, wanting to turn her around so that he could undo her zipper.

Not giving her a chance to pout or protest, he used his grip on her shoulders to direct her so that her back was to him. She resisted at first, but only for a moment. He heard her breath hitch in her throat when he started to pull the zipper down.

“I’m going to undress you completely,” he said, trying to keep his tone light and conversational, “and then I’m going to ask you to lie down.”

“O-okay,” Sansa stammered, looking over her shoulder at him, her eyes even wider than before. “Are you going to undress, too?” she asked, biting her lip and making him want to tear her dress the rest of the way off.

“Not quite yet,” he said, meeting her eyes steadily, “later.”

“Do you always have sex with all your clothes on?” she wondered aloud, her body erupting into gooseflesh as he finished opening her dress and ran a finger down her spine.

“No,” he answered. “Hush now.”

He wanted her to focus on the sensations he was planning to elicit. 

She kept silent as he stripped her of her lacy underthings, keeping his touch light and teasing, enjoying the way her breathing was deepening and the way her chest was heaving.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, holding her cream coloured panties up, “I think I’ll keep them.”

Sansa was facing him now, and wearing nothing but a blush.

“Oh, but they’re my favourite,” she said, looking both aroused and a little dismayed.

He put the panties in the front pocket of his suit jacket and moved to stand flush against her, kissing her lightly and threading one hand through her loosely curled hair, and letting this other run down her back until he reached her arse. He gave her a light spank.

“I said hush,” he reminded her as he broke the kiss, “from now on you’re only allowed to say my name and the word ‘stop’ if you don’t like what I’m doing. Incoherent sounds of pleasure are of course allowed, and rather encouraged.” He looked at her carefully, gauging her reaction. “Understand?”

Sansa nodded eagerly, blushing bright pink.

“Lie down, then.”

She looked uncertainly at the bed and pulled on the bedspread with a questioning look in her eyes. He helped her take the bedspread off since that was what he thought she wanted, and used the time while she made herself comfortable to loosen his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his dress shirt.

“Spread your legs,” he instructed, raising a critical eyebrow when she only spread them a little bit. “Properly,” he admonished, when his raised eyebrow did not seem to be doing the trick.

“Stannis,” she said, a bit of an embarrassed whine in her voice.

“I promise you’ll like it,” he said, confident that she would.

Slowly, she parted her legs to expose herself completely to his gaze. He made a point of taking a good long look at her lovely pink folds before dragging his eyes over her body and up to her face, wanting to meet her eyes.

Once he was sure she was watching him, he shrugged his jacket off and put it away in his closet, wondering whether he’d remember to take her panties out of the jacket pocket the next time he wore it. He rather liked the idea of keeping them in there. Perhaps he could fold them up and use them in place of a pocket square? He doubted he’d dare, but it was an arousing thought.

He maintained eye contact with her as he removed his cufflinks and his watch, and slowly rolled up his sleeves.

She was pink all over, likely both embarrassed and aroused, and his cock was twitching eagerly against the fly of his suit trousers due to the sight. He tried to ignore it, wanting to focus on her first.

With more speed than she had been expecting judging by the gasp she let escape, he grabbed her ankles and pulled her until her thighs were dangling off the edge of the bed, kneeling on the floor and settling himself in between them in the same breath. Before she had a chance to figure out what he was doing, he was already holding her thighs securely apart and using the flat of his tongue to lap hungrily at her exposed sex.

He already knew from their previous stint together that she was the sort of girl who did not like too much hair down there, and he was grateful for it. It was more fun to explore the surroundings without a lot of hair getting in the way, and easier to see what he had to work with, too. 

She was beautiful. Pink and swollen and _beautiful._ The scent and the taste of her was tolerable as well, if a bit tangy. He always did prefer the smell to the taste, but it was certainly not a taste he abhorred. 

The taste of an aroused woman heralded good things to come.

Sansa was already making good use of her permission to make incoherent sounds of pleasure, and her moans made him wonder what she would sound like once he really got down to business. Would she sound like she had sounded when he had been filling her with his cock in that backseat? He had rather liked how loud her voice had got at the end. She had practically been _screaming._

Maybe he could get her to make enough noise to disturb the neighbours? His neighbours were utter twats so it would serve them right. They had several tiny dogs that they did not seem to believe needed any discipline, and the noise of their yapping got especially bad whenever the owners decided to leave the poor beasts alone in the house.

With a clear goal in mind, Stannis redoubled his efforts. 

He was going to make her scream herself hoarse, but first he was going to play with her and make her _desperate_ to come.

She seemed to like it when he pushed his tongue inside her and wriggled it around a little, so he did quite a lot of it. She _really_ liked it when he dragged his tongue from her entrance to her mound, giving her sensitive bundle of nerves a very near miss each time, so he did quite a lot of that, too. She clearly liked it best when he sucked on that same little bundle, however, so he did hardly any of that.

He was waiting for her to get much louder first.

Eventually her moans (“Stannis-Stannis- _Stannis_...”) turned into cries, which turned into sobs, which turned into _almost_ screams.

That was when he struck. Sucking on just the spot she wanted him to suck on.

The scream that rent the air was _immensely_ satisfying, but he didn’t stop. He kept going even when her hands stopped tugging him closer and started to attempt to weakly push him away. He knew he was overwhelming her, but he knew it was a good sort of overwhelming since she was not asking him to stop, and not pushing him away with any real force. She was twitching and trembling, sucking in air only to make those high-pitched wails when she exhaled, and if he weren’t holding her thighs firmly apart he was sure that she’d be trying to squeeze his head until his brains popped out like a cork from a bottle of Champagne.

His cock was twitching in time with her body, so eager for attention that he was tempted to let go of one of her thighs so that he could fondle himself. But he had no desire to suffocate to death, so he kept his hands where they were as he finished licking her through her aftershocks.

When all he could hear were quiet whimpers he stood up, feeling grateful for the soft rug that he had been kneeling on. His knees weren’t entirely happy with the abuse, but he was pretty sure they wouldn’t bruise.

He looked down on Sansa from his new position, amused to see that she wasn’t moving up to lie properly on the bed. Her body was completely limp, her eyes closed and her lips parted. The rise and fall of her chest hypnotised him for a few moments, but he shook himself from his stupor quickly enough when his balls reminded him that they didn’t fancy turning blue. 

Resisting the urge to sigh with relief, he started to get undressed. He was a lot less fussy about putting the rest of his clothes away and ended up leaving them scattered around him on the floor for the most part. Sansa opened her eyes when she heard the clink of his belt buckle hitting the floor.

“Oh, gods,” she moaned, looking at the bulge in his underwear with a mixture of desire and trepidation. She was probably feeling _very_ sensitive, then.

“The rules still apply,” he reminded her, his voice more amused than warning, “turn around.”

Sansa made a little squeak, but turned to lie on her front as he asked.

He finished pulling the rest of his clothes off, groaning as soon as his cock sprang free, and got on the bed with Sansa. He gave her gorgeous arse a light smack for using words she was not allowed, and enjoyed it when she squeaked again.

“Up,” he said, his heart starting to beat quite fast.

Sansa scrambled to get her knees underneath her and her arse in the air. She didn’t get up on her hands, however, choosing to rest her face on her forearms instead.

He wasn’t planning on taking her from behind, but he almost changed his mind when he saw her spread her thighs a little and _wriggle._

He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath. Maybe later.

She moaned when he got on his knees behind her and rubbed his cock over her folds. He wanted to make her think he was about to push inside, but he wasn’t actually going to.

“Please, _please,_ ” she moaned, her voice muffled.

He spanked her again, making sure it would smart a bit this time, and pulled away. “Remember the rules,” he said.

She made a desperate, needy sound, but didn’t do anything else.

Another deep breath. Two fingers? Three?

He started with two.

Sansa moaned and wriggled some more when he pushed his fingers inside her very, _very_ wet passage, but he could tell that she was confused. He didn’t explain himself. He just continued to finger her, starting with slow movements but quickly working up to a fast pumping motion. Her inner walls felt softer than anything in the world, and they were deliciously slippery with her juices. He added another finger, moving his hand as fast as he could.

Because he wanted to continue to figure out what sort of girl she was, he took his soaking wet fingers out of her, spread her cheeks with one hand and started to gently rub her _other entrance._ He took his time about it, and paid very close attention to her body language and the noises she was making. She had tensed up briefly at his first touch, and her breath had hitched sharply, but when he didn’t do anything more than rub gentle circles she had relaxed. For a few seconds she hadn’t made any noise at all, but then, hesitantly, she started to moan again.

He had almost been holding his breath while she made up her mind about whether she liked what he was doing or not, but now that she was apparently going to allow this, he started to breathe normally again.

Stannis was pleased to know that she was not too inhibited to object to this sort of play on principle, but as he hadn’t really planned the experiment, he decided not to do anything more for now.

“Stay like this,” he said, pulling away from her and walking to his en suite to wash his hands.

When he returned he took a moment to just admire her. She looked so ready to be fucked, and so _gorgeous._ He knew that he would eventually take her in this position, but he also knew that he wanted to look at her face right now. He was curious about how she would look at him after his little experiment.

His cock jumped, and his balls sent him another little ache to remind him that he had been hard for quite some time now.

Stannis got on the bed. After a brief moment of deliberation he got on his back. He thought it was time for her to do some of the work.

“Come here,” he said, making his voice gentle, “unless you’ve had enough?”

Sansa rose up on her hands and looked at him. Her face was absolutely _crimson._ She seemed uncertain for a moment, but then she understood.

It did not take her very long to climb on top of him.

“Slowly, now,” he said, remembering how ridiculously tight she had been. She ought to be wet enough to make this fairly easy, but he rather fancied a slow entry, in any case.

She sank down at a glacial pace, just like he had asked, looking at him the entire time and - _seven fucking hells_ \- biting her lip in that sinful way. The embarrassed flush was fading from her skin, leaving her with the pink of her arousal.

“Fuck,” he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut against his will. She was perfect. So wet, so fucking tight and so _perfect._

She moaned his name when she had filled herself up, and rocked experimentally against him. He opened his eyes and stared up at her in awe. Did she know how good she felt? Did it feel as good for her?

“No more rules,” he choked out, “tell me how it feels.”

“Big,” she said, giving him a heated look, “ _so_ big… and deep...”

His hips thrust up once without leave, and he grabbed onto her hips. 

The things she had said in the car had been straight out of his fantasies, and although it was rather embarrassing, he couldn’t help but enjoy hearing her compliment his size. He wanted her to say more. He wanted her to say it all again.

“Biggest you’ve ever had?” he asked, encouraging her with his hands to grind against him. She was a quick study and was already rolling her hips _perfectly._

“Yes,” Sansa sighed, “and this angle just makes you feel even _bigger._ ”

Stannis groaned and started to buck up. He wanted to watch her ride him like he was a wild horse she could barely stay on top of. He wanted to see her rise up until only his head remained inside of her and then observe as she willingly impaled herself.

Happily, Sansa seemed to want to do those things, too.

He helped her along as best he could, holding on to her body wherever he could get a grip and pulling and pushing in time with her movements. Occasionally he let go so he could fondle her breasts and tease her nipples, and she always sped up when he did this.

Sansa found her release with a sharp, beautiful cry, and the sensation of her clamping down on him, looking so ridiculously gorgeous as she shuddered with pleasure, forced him to follow her over the edge.

It was nice to be able to lie in comfort and enjoy the afterglow this time around, without having to worry about staining the upholstery and having to answer some very awkward questions when he returned the rental.

After a good long while of holding each other and exchanging the occasional kiss, Sansa broke the silence.

“So, um, do you like to… experiment in bed, then?” she asked a little shyly.

“Isn’t everything an experiment with a new partner?” he answered vaguely, wondering if he could get her to speak more plainly. He was fairly sure she had liked the little bit of touching he had done, and based on her reaction he could imagine her enjoying more of that sort of play, but he wouldn’t force it on her if it was something she was uncomfortable with.

“Oh… yes. I suppose,” she said, her words stilted. He turned to look at her face and saw that she was blushing quite deeply.

“Did I do anything you disliked?” he asked, kissing her burning cheeks.

“No. I would have told you to stop if you had,” Sansa hastily explained, “but I was a bit… surprised.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve never had anyone be so… controlling. And no one’s ever touched… _you know._ ”

“Would you prefer if I were less controlling and left your lovely arse unexplored?” he asked, enjoying the way his blatant words made her turn even redder and make a little squeaking noise.

“I - I don’t know,” she stammered, “I think I liked it.”

“How do you feel right now?” he asked, speaking into her ear and trying to mask his amusement.

Sansa moaned a little incoherently and writhed against him. “Turned on,” she whispered, sounding a little mortified by the confession.

“What’s turning you on?” he asked, wondering if he was right about her and wanting her to discover it for herself.

“I don’t _know,_ ” she moaned, “I guess you are.”

He huffed out an amused breath and decided to help her along. “You’re not turned on because this is a little embarrassing and illicit in a way that makes your heart beat faster? Because you like being told what to do?”

Sansa trapped one of his thighs between hers and started to rub herself against him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck and whimpering.

“Gods, you’re responsive,” he muttered, letting his hands wander down her back and to her arse. He spanked her lightly like he had done before, and felt as she pressed her wet centre more tightly against him.

“Does the spanking turn you on?” he asked, raising his voice a little.

“Yes,” she moaned, and she arched her back a little, making him feel relatively certain that she was trying to ask for more.

“Do you want more?” It was better to make sure. And anyway, he rather wanted to hear her ask to be spanked.

“... yes.” Her voice was a tiny, embarrassed squeak, but he heard her.

“What was that?” he said just to tease her.

“Yes, I want more,” Sansa said, her voice only a little louder and breathless with mortification.

“More what?” He couldn’t help himself. This was just _too_ delicious.

Sansa took a deep shuddering breath. “I want you to spank me some more,” she whispered.

His hand was already on the move before she finished speaking, landing a lazy swat on her arse.

“Like this?” He spanked her again. “Or harder?”

“Oh, not too hard. I don’t want it to hurt,” she hurried to explain, moaning as he continued to spank her lightly while she spoke.

“Hm, so you like a little embarrassment, but not pain?” he said, half to her and half to himself.

“Um, I guess,” Sansa said, gasping when he landed a few sharp smacks in a row.

“Understood,” he murmured, continuing his work and enjoying the way she was getting even wetter where she was rubbing herself against his thigh.

Their titillating conversation and her obvious arousal was helping him get hard again. Perhaps it was time to find out if she wanted more of his cock?

“Were you disappointed when I didn’t take you from behind earlier?” he asked, observing the way her blush deepened.

“Y-yeah, a little,” she admitted.

“Do you want to get on your hands and knees for me?”

She moaned an affirming sort of noise and rubbed herself a little more desperately against him.

“Do you want me to fuck you from behind and smack your lovely arse as I do it?”

She started to convulse and shudder, and Stannis’ eyebrows rose as high as they would go when he realised she had just brought herself off on his thigh.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, his voice deep and hoarse with arousal. He gave her arse a slightly harder smack than the ones that had apparently helped get her off. “Up you get.”

Sansa moaned some more, but did as she was told, lifting her rear up and spreading her thighs invitingly.

He pushed into her in one stroke despite her tightness, using as much force as he dared to accomplish it. She whimpered, but he was sure it was the good kind of whimpering.

“What did you want me to do, again?” he asked, pretending that he’d forgotten.

Her inner muscles squeezed him so tightly that his eyes rolled into the back of his head for a moment, his breath hitching in his chest. 

It could not be much clearer that she _really_ liked it when he made her ask for these ‘embarrassing’ things.

“I want you to fuck me and spank me at the same time,” she mumbled. Her face was pillowed on her forearms, so he supposed he would forgive her for not speaking up.

“As you wish,” he said, starting to move his hips the way he was absolutely _dying_ to. It was tempting to just go into a frenzy of fucking and slapping her arse and groaning her name, but he had more self control than that.

He established a steady rhythm, pulling as far out as he trusted himself to do and sinking in with a measured amount of force. He kept the spanking unpredictable to contrast the steady fucking, varying the force of the smacks, the length in between them and the location where his hand landed. He really enjoyed the way she squeezed him each time his hand came down, and the little breathy ‘ah’ sounds she sometimes made.

It was almost too easy to get her to come. She was fluttering around him and practically sobbing with pleasure after only a few minutes, begging him to go faster and harder, pushing herself back against him and trying to encourage him in all those little ways a body could be used to entice another.

When she was screaming, hopefully annoying the hell out of his twat neighbours, he finally relented and started to fuck her with the force of a freight train, abandoning the idea of spanking her with his hands in favour of holding her still and letting his body create loud smacks as he rammed himself into her again and again.

His second orgasm of the evening was even better than the first, and he loved how greedy her body was for him as he came. She was squeezing him so hard that it was almost like being _sucked_ on.

He didn’t even care that he was grunting unattractively as he spent himself; he felt too good to bother with worrying about those sorts of things.

This time when they came apart and stretched their bodies out on the bed they didn’t cuddle or kiss. They were both too exhausted. Stannis was actually very impressed when Sansa managed to stumble out of bed and make her way to the en suite on unsteady legs.

A competitive part of him was already wondering how hard he’d have to fuck her to make sure she wouldn’t be able to get out of bed for at least a few hours, and another - quite filthy-minded - part of him pointed out that it was probably not a question of how hard he fucked her, but rather a matter of _where he put his cock._

When she returned he had regained enough energy to wrap an arm around her and hold her to his chest.

“I hope Jeyne isn’t expecting you to come home tomorrow,” he murmured, petting her lazily, “or the next day.”

Sansa giggled a little nervously. “I don’t know what she’s expecting,” she said.

“You should call her and let her know that you’ll be busy for the next two or three days.”

“Don’t you have work?” Sansa giggled.

“Perhaps I like the idea of you staying naked in my bed while I go to work,” he said, deliberately keeping his voice just serious enough so Sansa couldn’t write his words off as a joke.

She made one of her delightful little squeaking noises.

“You - you’d want that?” she asked, sounding a little breathless.

“I think _you_ want that,” he said, still petting her and enjoying the softness of her skin.

Sansa giggled nervously again, neither confirming or denying his words.

“But we can figure all of that out tomorrow,” Stannis said, letting her off the hook for now, “we should try to get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Sansa agreed, cuddling closer to him.

They kissed each other goodnight and were asleep within minutes, exhausted, sated and very, very happy.


	10. Home Alone

Sansa couldn’t believe that she had agreed to this.

She had almost thought Stannis was joking until he made her promise that she would only leave the bed to use the bathroom, and that she would only go to the kitchen once to eat something. He warned her that she was not allowed to put any clothes on when she did this and that there were windows in the kitchen that did not have any blinds. Somehow the idea had been sexy when he had been in the room with her, but now she was hungry and she had no idea whether the kitchen windows had a view of the street or the waters of the bay. 

She was fairly sure no one would see her either way because this was a quiet neighbourhood (except for those annoying dogs next door) and Stannis seemed to understand that she was turned on by _embarrassment_ not _humiliation._

Sansa didn’t really know _how_ he had got a sense of what turned her on as quickly as he had as she had barely been aware of most of it herself, but after the night and the morning she had spent with him she was fairly sure he had some sort of gift.

Her stomach growled and she looked at the alarm clock. It was a little past noon. Stannis had brought her a light breakfast to bed before he had left, but that had been before eight. She was _starving._

Maybe she would just put on some clothes? It would feel a lot less intimidating to make herself lunch in an unfamiliar kitchen if she didn’t have to do it in the nude. Stannis wouldn’t have to know. She’d just tell him that she had done it naked.

… Except she didn’t think she could lie to him.

But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he found out that she had disobeyed him? Maybe he’d spank her again?

Sansa pressed her thighs together tightly as she remembered what it had felt like when he’d done it last night, how he’d made her skin tingle and her insides throb with need...

She hadn’t actually been aware that it was possible for her to get that wet.

As tempting as it was to put her hand between her thighs and get lost in the memories of the spectacular sex she’d had last night - and again before Stannis had left for work - she was too hungry to consider it. Besides, though Stannis had encouraged her to touch herself all she wanted, he had also warned her that she’d have to tell him how often she brought herself off once he got home, and that she would have to give him just as many orgasms before he would consider giving her any new ones. Sansa squirmed a bit as she thought about how he had sounded when he had told her that rule.

Another loud growl from her stomach rent the silence in the room. She really needed to go an eat something that would last her until five o’clock.

She was just about to borrow one of Stannis’ dress shirts, thinking that another spanking would just be fun, when a jarring thought occurred to her. What if he did something else to punish her for disobeying the rules? What if he refused to let her come?

Should she risk it? Or should she try to follow the rules and go naked to the kitchen?

Her heart was beating ridiculously hard and her face felt much too warm, but she decided to try doing it like Stannis wanted. It wouldn’t hurt to go downstairs and look around, anyway. If it looked like the windows would expose her to the whole wide world she could always just go back and get something to wear. After what happened with Ramsay she did not want anyone to see her naked without her permission. Even just a brief glimpse through a window would feel uncomfortable. Stannis would understand that if she explained it to him.

Her mind thus made up, she got out of bed and dashed to the door, feeling rather like she had when she had been little and Robb and Jon had convinced her to get out of bed in the middle of the night and sneak a slice of cake from the pantry. It had been a special cake that their mother had made for a tea party she was throwing for her friends the following day. They were never allowed this type of cake when their mother made it, and Robb had been convinced that it had to be especially good for that reason. “Even better than lemon cake,” he had insisted, managing to persuade her to break the rules for once.

It turned out that it was a rum-soaked sponge cake, and it had tasted _awful._ Sansa had never let Robb or Jon convince her to break the rules again, and she had got out of trouble by going straight to her mother and _telling._

Sansa couldn’t help but smile at the memory as she darted through the house in not a single stitch of clothing. She found the kitchen with relative ease, and was relieved when she saw that the windows faced the bay. No one would see her unless they came into Stannis’ yard and pressed their nose to the window.

Feeling a little calmer, Sansa set about finding herself something to eat. She quickly decided to avoid cooking too much as she really didn’t think it would be smart to work with anything hot without her clothes on. The fridge was fairly well stocked, so she ended up making herself a big, rather delicious-looking sandwich. Hopefully Stannis wouldn’t mind if she ate in bed. She really didn’t fancy staying naked in the kitchen any longer than she had to. She took a couple of bottles of water with her, and practically ran up the stairs like the Night’s King was after her.

An hour later, the thrill of her kitchen adventure had worn off and she was starting to get _bored._ She could have used her phone - which Stannis had made sure was within easy reach on one of the nightstands - to go online, but Stannis hadn’t given her the wifi password, and her phone wasn’t fully charged, anyway. 

Sansa almost jumped out of her skin when the phone she had just been thinking about suddenly started to ring.

It was Stannis calling.

“Hi,” she said, trying to sound cool and calm and sexy all at once.

“Did you eat?” he asked, not bothering with any of the normal pleasantries. “Did you follow the rules?”

“Yes,” she said, relieved that she wouldn’t have to lie. “I went to the kitchen without a _stitch_ of clothing and made myself a sandwich.” She used her most flirtatious tone of voice and wondered whether Stannis was alone or whether he surrounded by people and being forced to pretend that he was not talking to the naked girl in his bed.

“Where did you eat it?” he asked, sounding stern.

“... the bed,” she admitted, hoping that it had not been a punishable offence.

“If I find any crumbs in the sheets you’ll be in trouble,” he said, still using that arousing authoritative tone of his.

“What kind of trouble?” Why was she so excited by the idea?

“I’m sure you can imagine.”

His voice and promise of trouble was getting her turned all the way on again. She pressed her thighs together and thought of the way he had spanked her again, a tiny whimper escaping her lips.

“When are you coming back?” she asked, trying to breathe normally.

“Impatient?”

“There’s not a lot to do here without you,” she said, trying to sound tempting rather than pouty.

“I believe I encouraged you to… entertain yourself.”

“But if I _entertain myself_ you said you wouldn’t do anything for me until I evened the score,” she reminded him, hoping he would tell her that he had changed his mind about that, and that no matter what she did he would be fucking her within a minute of getting back home.

“I’ll give you one for free,” he said, dark amusement in his tone, “if you send me a picture of your face right after you… finish.”

Sansa sucked in a breath and felt her heart start to beat furiously. She had never even sent _Willas_ dirty pictures, because she was so worried that they might somehow end up online. But she supposed it really wasn’t that dirty if it was just her face…

“Okay,” she said, feeling her cheeks heat up because of what she had just agreed to do.

“Good girl,” he said, hanging up before she had a chance to respond. Not that she would have been able to get anything coherent out after he’d said _that._

Sansa replaced her phone on the nightstand, and squirmed around for a bit, trying to get comfortable.

Could she really do it? Touch herself and then send Stannis a picture of her face right after? The thought sent a secret thrill down her spine, and she had to press her thighs together even more tightly.

In the end she was too turned on and needy to resist.

She hadn’t had to get herself off without using a vibrator in a long time. Her fingers didn’t feel anything like Stannis’ fingers had felt. Instead they were strange and awkward down there. Too… pokey. She wanted something round and blunted, preferably with no fingernails.

With a frustrated sound she stopped trying to pleasure herself and started to look around. There was nothing remotely useful in sight. She opened all the nightstand drawers in the vain hope that Stannis might - for some reason - have a vibrator, but wasn’t all that surprised when the most illicit thing she found was an old pack of condoms.

Feeling rather woebegone, Sansa flopped back onto the bed. She tossed, turned and squirmed, feeling feverish and half mad with her intense craving for sex. She tried using her hand several more times, but somehow it only made things _worse._ Her need intensified but she couldn’t seem to get herself any closer to an orgasm.

She was about to give up, call Stannis and beg him to just come home and fuck her, when she recalled how she had got off using Stannis’ thigh, which led her to remember how she had used to get herself off before she had discovered that vibrators were _divine_ creations.

When she had been quite young she had used to put a pillow between her legs and rub up against it until it made her tremble and her body got hot all over, and she hadn’t really thought of it as masturbating. Masturbating was not something good girls did, and Sansa had definitely been a good girl.

Feeling a bit silly, Sansa got on her stomach and put a pillow between her legs, moaning a little at the sensation of having something pressed so firmly against her. She stopped feeling silly and started to rock against the pillow, enjoying the steady build of pleasure the movement brought her.

She let her mind wander, searching for a suitably arousing fantasy, knowing that she’d never come if her mind wasn’t in the game.

Her mind decided to revisit the memory of what it had felt like when Stannis had put his fingers somewhere no one had ever touched her. Her face flamed up at the memory, but it was helping her get _closer,_ so she kept thinking about it. Would he ever do it again? Would he do _more?_

She moaned as an imaginary version of Stannis decided to push a finger inside, forcing her to describe what it felt like. Making her admit that she liked it. That she _wanted_ it.

_You want more, don’t you?_

_Oh, gods…_

_Your gods aren’t here. Only me._ The Stannis of her fantasy spanked her, and in reality her hips started to move faster.

_Yes, I want more… could you use two fingers, please?_

_No. I’m afraid it’s one finger or…_

_Or what?_

Fantasy Stannis moved to whisper into her ear in his sinful, raspy voice. _Or one cock._

Sansa whimpered and moved her hands underneath the pillow so she could press it up against her even as she pushed herself down on it, grinding against it desperately, starting to sweat with the effort.

She wasn’t even sure she ever wanted to try _that kind of sex_ in real life. She had the vague notion that it would be painful, and as she lacked a prostate, probably not very satisfying. But for some reason the fantasy of it was already making her come.

Still breathing hard, still flushed, her hair plastered to her skin by sweat that was still warm, she snapped a picture of her face. She looked like an utter _wreck,_ but she sent it anyway, via text message since she didn’t have an internet connection. She waited for a few beats, but when she didn’t get a reply, she guiltily started to rock against the pillow again, still feeling hot and bothered and _horny._

She wondered if Stannis was at this very moment looking at the picture she had sent him and getting aroused at the thought of what she had just been doing. Would he excuse himself and go to the nearest men’s room? Lock himself in a stall and do what she was fairly sure he had done that morning in High Heart? The idea of him getting off to thoughts of her was getting her _close_ again, but she suddenly remembered that she had only been given _one_ free orgasm. She’d have to either use her hands or her mouth to get Stannis off before they did anything else after he got home if she continued.

She tried to stop. She really did. But somehow the thought of being made to go down on him while she was _this desperate_ for his cock was pushing her over the edge.

Sansa had only just got her breathing under control when her phone vibrated and lit up, alerting her to a newly received text message.

_How many?_

Her face became unbearably hot. Did he suspect that she had given herself more than one? Should she lie and say it had been just one? It would be easy to lie in a text message, but what if he asked her again when he got home? She didn’t trust herself to lie to his face, and if he caught her in a lie she was certain she’d be in _trouble._

The way he had said _good girl_ when they had spoken on the phone earlier echoed in her mind, and she squirmed against her pillow. She couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. She wanted him to continue to call her a good girl. Good girls didn’t lie.

Glancing at the small battery symbol on the screen of her phone and feeling a little nervous about how little time her phone said she had left, she hurried to type a reply to Stannis.

_Two._

The next twenty minutes before Stannis sent his response were nerve-racking. Sansa couldn’t calm down enough to think about anything for very long, and she just kept staring at her phone, wondering what Stannis would say in his next message.

She was starting to wonder if he would answer at all when the screen finally lit up again.

“You will have your mouth open when I return.”

The second she read the message Sansa felt as if molten lava were moving through her body and pooling at her centre. Despite the two orgasms she had already given herself she was _throbbing_ with need again. She didn’t want a vibrator, she didn’t want a pillow, and she certainly didn’t want her fingers. She wanted his cock. She wanted the thick length of it buried deep inside her and she wanted him to fuck her _hard._

She was too hot and sweaty to stay under the covers, and she felt completely wanton, lying on his bed, naked and completely uncovered, squirming at the thought of his cock.

Should she reply to his text? Confirm that she would do everything he asked as long as he gave her what she needed in the end? She had never felt this frazzled and on-edge because of a man. Men were usually the ones that lost their ability to function properly due to _her._ She still remembered how firmly Willas had been wrapped around her finger when it came to sex with a certain satisfaction, and she had thought it would be the same with Stannis. But it was as if Stannis had _changed_ as soon as he realised she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her. He had snatched up all the power, and she hadn’t been able to stop him because it had just been so _hot._

But maybe she should try to get a little of her own back?

Feeling a little reckless, Sansa turned on her phone’s camera and carefully posed for a series of selfies. She looked through them, determined to find the one that would send just the right message. Once she found the right one she sent it, a thrilled, excited feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The picture showed the bottom half of her face, and just enough of her shoulders and chest to make it abundantly clear that she was naked. Her nipples were not visible, of course, but her lips were parted to show that her mouth was slightly open, and she had placed a finger on her lower lip in a _very_ suggestive way. It was the sexiest photograph she had ever taken of herself, much less _shared,_ and she hoped that Stannis would make sure to keep it private. She was trusting him.

She did not expect a reply, nor did she receive one.

Now all she had to do was wait for him to return. And try not to give herself several more orgasms.

Sansa whimpered and writhed around on top of the covers, the heat of her arousal not doing her the courtesy of fading even the slightest bit.

The alarm clock told her that she still had two more hours to go.

_Gods._

***

Sansa was about to go completely crazy when she finally heard the sound of keys, a lock, and a front door opening and closing.

She had been unable to resist touching herself some more after texting with Stannis, but she had managed to keep herself from coming by focusing more on her nipples than on her more sensitive places. As a result, her body was so primed for sex that she felt half mad.

When she heard that Stannis was walking up the stairs - at a completely sedate pace - she scrambled to kneel rather than continue to sprawl on her back, and remembered to open her mouth just before Stannis _finally_ reached the door.

Stannis’ expression when he stepped into the room was enough to make her breath hitch. His face was completely impassive - almost as if he were simply waiting in line at some coffee shop or other for his morning cup of tea - except for the fact that his eyes were _smouldering._ He let his gaze burn its way from her parted lips and down over her naked body, making her shiver and break out into goosebumps. Her nipples, sensitive from all the touching she had been doing, were almost painfully stiff.

Slowly and deliberately he started to unbuckle his belt.

Her heart was beating so hard that she almost felt worried, and she had to struggle to remember to keep her mouth open. She really wanted to lick her lips. She didn’t dare do anything until he said something, however, so she just watched as Stannis freed his erection from the confines of his suit trousers.

“Come here,” he said, his voice a little raw, “I believe you owe me.”

Sansa got to her feet and started to walk towards him, but he stopped her with a pointed look. Somehow she knew she wasn’t allowed to close her parted lips until after his cock had been pushed in between them, so she didn’t ask him for instructions. She just stopped in her tracks and blinked at him in confusion.

“My cock is down here,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

 _Oh._ He wanted her to get down on her knees.

She sank to the floor, feeling more moisture gathering between her thighs as she carefully crawled over to where Stannis was standing by the door. It was uncomfortable and very hard on her knees to crawl away from the soft rug the bed stood on and onto the hardwood floor, but it was not a very long distance, and she was too turned on to care. She had been too horny to stop after giving herself one orgasm, and now she would simply have to blow him without anything soft to kneel on as a consequence.

She felt something wet start to make its way down the inside of her thigh and realised with a blush that it was the moisture of her arousal. She clenched up on the inside, feeling horribly, _achingly_ empty, and looked hungrily up at Stannis’ cock.

“You want this, don’t you?” he asked, a hint of a smirk finding its way to his face. That ‘this’ was his cock was made obvious by the tone of his voice, and by the way he gave himself a lazy stroke as he said it.

She nodded and pushed her hands off the floor so that she could kneel with her face in front of his groin.

“But you know why you have to suck me first?”

She nodded again, feeling her face heat up and her cheeks tingle.

“And you quite like that I’m making you suck me first, don’t you?” He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her with his eyes now blazing with heat rather than smouldering.

Sansa whimpered and nodded once more. It was insane, but she had never been this wet. _Never._

“Get to it, then,” he said, letting go of his cock and stepping a little closer so that it was pressed up to her cheek.

She grabbed at his cock and started to stroke it and lick the head, trying to ignore the messages of discomfort her knees kept sending her brain, but unable to resist making her grip firm and speeding everything up a little. She did not want this to take too long.

“I want you to take your time and do this properly,” Stannis said, looking down at her with a stern expression on his face, “I know you’re talented with that tongue of yours. I remember what you did in the car and I expect even better this time as we are not currently in a cramped backseat or in any kind of rush.”

Sansa stifled a groan and focused on slowing down a little. Why had she been so keen to show off in the car? Why hadn’t she just given him a regular blowjob?

She looked up at him, meeting his heated gaze and wondering whether he’d let her ask for a pillow to kneel on, at least. She’d be able to do a much better job if she weren’t uncomfortable, and yet being forced to do this while being this uncomfortable was turning her on.

She made a small whimpering sound and wished he would just read her mind and come up with some wonderful solution.

***

Stannis could barely think. 

It had been a real test of his self control and willpower to go to work. He would much rather have stayed at home and fucked Sansa until she complained that she was getting sore. And then maybe a little more after that.

But after last night he had realised that she the sort of girl who liked to be told what to do. Who liked to be given rules to follow, being rewarded for doing a good job and punished if she didn’t. The idea of testing her boundaries a little by leaving her naked in his bed for the day had just been too tempting to pass up.

The morning had been fairly easy. He had been satisfied from the morning sex and he had known that Sansa would probably just sleep the morning away. It wasn’t until around lunch that he started to feel aroused again, and excited by the thought of Sansa making herself something to eat in his kitchen -- completely naked. He hadn’t been able to resist calling and checking up on her.

Somehow that call had led to him being in the possession of a picture of Sansa’s post-orgasmic face, and he’d had to go to the men’s room and splash cold water on his forehead and neck, and pace around until he erection went away. He would not jerk off at work. He just would _not._

Once he had cooled down he had decided to find out whether Sansa had been able to restrain herself to one orgasm. He knew how women were different from men and how their bodies were frequently not at all satisfied with just _one._ Giving her that first one for free had been a highly calculated ploy on his part as he had been convinced that she’d give herself _at least_ one more.

He had been very pleased when his theory had proved correct. He quite liked the idea of getting a blowjob the minute he got home.

The picture she had sent in response to his order to have her mouth open when he returned to her had almost been enough to undo him. He’d had to do a lot more splashing with cold water and pacing.

Now he was finally home, and Sansa was finally sucking his unbearably hard cock, and she was looking up at him and whimpering in a way that made him feel sure he was supposed to be understanding something.

But thinking was proving to be nearly impossible.

She whimpered again and a small crease appeared between her eyebrows. She did not look as if she were in pain, and she was obviously just as aroused as he was, but she was _trying to tell him something._

Was she not in the mood to top the performance she had given in the backseat of the rental? Perhaps it had been overly demanding of him to ask for that…

He couldn’t take it back now, however, and he didn’t really want to. He had never had a woman - not even Melisandre - take as much of his cock in her mouth as Sansa had; it had actually been down her throat a little and the sensation had been _amazing._ He really wanted her to do it again.

Maybe she was nervous about doing it again in their current position? Maybe she wanted to go to the bed?

He suddenly recalled a piece of knowledge that he had unearthed when he had somehow - completely by accident - lost his way on the Internet and ended up somewhere... inappropriate. Apparently it was easier for a woman to take a cock down her throat if she let her head dangle off the edge of a bed. Something about lining the opening of the mouth up with the esophagus.

The way she was sucking on him was making it hard to think or speak, but eventually he managed to get the words out.

“Get on the bed. Lie on your back and let your head hang off the edge.” He was more groaning than speaking, but he was understandable enough.

She let go of his cock and got up, and he noticed her wince and rub her knees surreptitiously. A pang of guilt shot through him. He hadn’t thought about how hard the floor would be on her knees.

“Are you going to… ?” Sansa trailed off, looking a little nervous.

He softened his approach, sensing that she needed to be reassured that he was not going to hurt her.

“It will be easier for you if you lie down the way I asked,” he explained in a low murmur. 

She nodded and bit her lip. “How will I let you know if I want to stop?” she whispered, her eyes still full of trepidation.

“We’ll take it slow and I’ll watch you. I assure you, I’ll be able to tell if you’re in distress. You can also use your hands to push me away. I won’t hurt you, Sansa.” He was careful to meet her eyes and speak firmly and soothingly. He wanted her to trust him.

His words had their intended effect and he watched as her anxiety melted away to be replaced with curiosity and excitement.

He kissed her once, very softly, before leading her to the bed and helping her get situated.

“Okay?” he asked her, spreading his thighs and getting himself into position with his cock in front of her mouth. He was still fully dressed for the most part, and it was a little strange to have her naked in front of him, her face turning red due to the effect of gravity on her blood.

“Okay,” she said, her voice a little breathless. She opened her mouth, and without thinking more about it, he pushed inside.


	11. Deeper

Stannis went slowly just as he had promised, resisting the impulse to close his eyes and let his head loll uselessly at the sensation of her hot mouth accepting more and more of him.

Soon he was at the point where she had stopped when they had been in the car; the head the only part of his cock he had managed to push all the way into her throat. She swallowed, and it caused the muscles of her throat to contract around him. He moaned involuntarily and put his hands on either side of her head where he could reach, stroking her neck and jaw with his thumbs.

It was an utterly overwhelming sensation, and he had to grit his teeth and remind himself that he did not want to hurt Sansa to prevent himself from starting to fuck her throat mercilessly.

Near helpless with pleasure. he reined himself in just enough to keep from thrusting hard. Instead he pushed further in with agonising slowness, relishing the delicious pressure of her throat.

He experienced ten seconds of concentrated bliss before he realised that Sansa was struggling.

Stannis pulled back completely and helped Sansa sit up. He sat down next to her and rubbed her back. She was coughing, and there were tears streaming from her eyes. Her face was fire-engine red.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, holding her steady and encouraging her to meet his eyes.

“Just a little…” she said, her voice hoarse.

He tried not to let her see how upset that made him. He really hadn’t meant to hurt her. “I’m sorry,” he said, trying to make his voice as soothing as he could, “we don’t have to do that again, but you did it very well. It felt very good for me.”

When she smiled at him, wiping her tears away and glowing due to his praise, his guilt ebbed away. She did not appear to be crying due to any emotional shock. The tears seemed to have been an involuntary physical reaction to their experiment.

“Very good?” she asked, obviously fishing for more compliments.

“Yes,” he confirmed, trying to gain control of himself and the situation again. “Now, because you were such a good girl, you may finish your work with either your hands or your mouth, and you can choose our position,” he said, wanting to reward her, but not let her off the hook completely. Rules were rules.

Her face fell a little, but she gave him a determined nod.

“Um, could you stand up?” she asked, biting her lip in that way that made his cock twitch.

He got to his feet, feeling surprised that she’d want to get on her knees again. Hadn’t it been uncomfortable for her? His surprise disappeared when she placed a pillow on the floor. Apparently the rug his bed stood on was not soft enough for her on its own.

He’d never admit it, but he actually had trouble keeping himself upright once Sansa started sucking him again. Her mouth was something out of a fantasy, and now that she seemed comfortable she was giving him everything she had. He almost came when she started sucking on his balls and jerking him off with her hand at the same time, but managed to hold himself back. He wanted this to a take a little bit longer.

But try as he might, he couldn’t make himself last when she started a fast rhythm where she focused on sucking hard on the head and using her hands to pump his shaft and fondle his balls. He might have been able to if it hadn’t been for the way she was looking up at him while she did it. The look in her eyes combined with the sensations she was eliciting was just _too much._. It was a look that was at once seeking his approval and telling him that she knew _exactly_ what she was doing to him.

He threaded his fingers through her hair and enjoyed the feeling of being seconds away from coming as long as he possibly could.

Stannis meant to warn her before he started to fill her mouth with spurt after spurt of warm come, but somehow the warning just came out as a grunt. He tightened his hold on her hair without actually hindering her movements, groaning as she continued to suck and lick him through his orgasm, swallowing everything he gave her.

“ _Fuck._ ” It was all he could manage to say when she pulled back, licked her lips and gave him a hopeful look.

She got up from the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. “Was it good?” she asked, her eagerness to please making him wish he had just abandoned his pride and bought some little blue pills on his way home. He had never understood the point of pills that promised erections that could last several hours until now.

“It was perfect,” he praised, still a little out of breath. He wanted to sit down, too, but resisted the impulse. He wouldn’t be able to get up again, and he was still dressed.

She was glowing again, and this time he could clearly see the undercurrent of arousal that was fuelling her expression. The pink flush, the heaving breasts, and the glassy eyes all screamed at him to fuck her.

Unfortunately he was becoming quite limp.

Still, he could join her in bed and see what happened.

Sansa looked delighted when he started to undress, and she was quick to make room for him when he approached her side of the bed.

As soon as he was naked and on his back on the crumpled sheets - a little the worse for wear after a day of hosting a naked Sansa - he felt them. Crumbs.

Hadn’t he told her she would be in trouble if he found crumbs?

He sat up and looked pointedly at the offending breadcrumbs. “What are those?”

Sansa blinked a few times and bit her lip. “Crumbs?” she said, her voice hushed and uncertain.

“Didn’t I warn you about this?” he asked sternly.

She nodded, her eyes wide.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to spank you again,” he said with an exaggerated put-upon sigh, enjoying the way she flushed almost as red as she had been after her head had been hanging off the bed. At the same time she was pressing her thighs together: turned on by the thought of being spanked even though she was clearly embarrassed, too.

What else could he do to embarrass her, he wondered…

Would she be the sort of girl who was embarrassed by her own sexual fantasies? Or would she just enjoy sharing them?

He made himself comfortable, piling pillows against the headboard so that he could sit up straight.

“Come lie across my lap,” he instructed. She immediately did as she was told and he couldn’t help but praise her for being such an obedient girl. “If only you were _always_ this obedient,” he sighed, pretending to be disappointed, “then I wouldn’t have to spank you.”

Sansa wriggled on top of him, obviously quite happy about her situation.

“I’m going to start by spanking you lightly,” he told her, deepening his voice, “but I’m going to use more and more force until you stop me.”

She twisted around to look at him in surprise. “How should I stop you?”

“You have to tell me exactly what you thought about while you were giving yourself those two orgasms today,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her, “I’ll know if you’re not telling me everything,” he added in warning.

He heard her inhale sharply and she started to get up and off of him. “No, I - I can’t,” she said, sitting up and looking at him, crimson-faced and imploring.

Stannis felt a thrill of excitement at her reluctance. What had she been thinking about that made her react this way to idea of sharing it with him? Was it something terribly illicit? Now he _had_ to know.

“All right,” he said, thinking it over, “I’ll stop after ten minutes whether you tell me your fantasies or not. How’s that?”

“But you’re - you’re still going to spank me really hard?” She looked worried that he would hurt her.

“Just hard enough to make your backside pink and tender,” he said, trying to resist the urge to smirk at the thought of her having to sit down a little slowly.

Sansa looked at him as she thought it over, and he admired her in turn. She was absurdly gorgeous, and he would enjoy the next ten minutes whether she caved and told him her fantasies or not. If she lasted through her spanking he would just think of some other way to get it out of her. Maybe he’d offer to tell her some of his fantasies in return?

She nodded and got back down, lying across his lap like he had instructed.

He made sure the first few smacks were so soft that she’d barely feel them, and he used the first two minutes of his time to increase the intensity slowly. Her thighs were slightly parted, and he could see that her inner thighs were glistening with her juices. She smelled ridiculously aroused, and he enjoyed the sounds that escaped her when he had built up to exactly the sort of smacks she had enjoyed last night.

When his third minute was up he started to use considerably more force. Nothing that would leave a mark or actually _hurt_ her, but enough to smart a bit and cause a very satisfyingly loud smacking sound. Her flesh rippled a little with every stroke, and he noticed that Sansa was now pressing her thighs together.

She was enjoying herself.

At the start of the fourth minute he heard her whimper, and he increased the intensity and the pace, loving the way her buttocks were starting to pinken.

“Stannis,” she whined, “it’s so - it’s so _much._ ”

“You know you can stop me whenever you like,” he said, trying not to betray his excitement. His cock was not quite ready to come back to life, but the sounds and the sights of her spanking were getting him there.

“I - I - um - I thought about whether you were using the picture I sent you to touch yourself at the same time as I was touching myself,” she blurted out, wriggling pleasantly as if trying to make his relentless hand land somewhere other than the spot he had been focusing on for the past twenty seconds.

“That would have been the fantasy that gave you your second orgasm, then?” he asked, giving in and starting to spank her in random locations, rather than in just one spot. “I didn’t have a picture of you until after you had your first.”

“Ye-yes,” she stammered.

“I’ll stop as soon as you tell me what you thought about as you gave yourself your first one, too,” he promised, starting to spank her even harder in the same tender spot as before.

Sansa started to whimper and squirm, but he held her still and continued to fill the room with loud fleshy slaps.

“Four minutes to go,” he told her, knowing that she would not want four more minutes of what he was doing at the moment.

“Ah! - Stannis - _please_ -”

“It’s just a fantasy,” he said, using his most no-nonsense voice, “I won’t judge you for whatever it was.”

“No, it’s - it’s too embarrassing, I _can’t,_ ” she moaned, wriggling more than ever, but also squeezing her thighs together tightly. She was definitely getting off on this.

“Yes you can,” he said firmly, “just be a good girl and tell me, and then your spanking will be all done.”

She moaned again: a long, drawn out sound that got his blood to rush south.

“I - I - thought about what you did with your fingers _you know where_ last night. I thought about you doing _more._ ” She was mumbling her words into the bedsheets and squirming around in delicious embarrassment.

He continued to spank her fast and hard even though his hand was getting very tired. “More how?” he said sharply.

“First your finger… then your - _you know._ ”

She was barely making herself understandable, but he understood nonetheless. The precious girl had got herself off thinking about him fucking her tight little arse with his cock.

He was sure he had never been harder in his life.

Stannis stilled his hand and started to stroke her pink buttocks gently, soothing the tender skin.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said, his voice husky with arousal.

Sansa made a noise that was a cross between a whimper and a moan. She could most likely feel his erection, and he hoped she was ready to let him fuck her now. He was fairly sure she needed it even more than he did, so he wasn’t too worried that she'd say no.

“I don’t really want to do it,” she mumbled.

He blanched. She didn’t want to have sex? He really hadn’t meant to turn her off. Quite the opposite.

“What do you mean?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even and not panicked.

“I don’t want you to put anything in my… you know.” She was still mumbling into the bedsheets, but he understood her and was flooded with relief.

“I understand,” he said seriously, “I won’t pressure you to do anything like that with me if it’s not what you want. I know quite well that sometimes fantasies are just… fantasies.”

He felt Sansa relax against him. “Okay,” she said, sounding quite relieved.

“Now,” he said, regaining his confidence, “how would you like me to fuck you?”

Sansa moaned and rolled to her back, spreading her thighs wide and showing him exactly how ready she was. He had never seen a woman in such a state. It was _magnificent._ Her folds were all puffy and red, almost unrecognisably swollen, and she was so wet that her inner thighs were slick with her juices.

His cocked jumped eagerly, and before he knew it he was rushing to climb on top of her as if he were taking part in some sort of highly pornographic race.

A blink of an eyes later he was holding onto the headboard and slamming himself into her with all the considerable force he could muster, her legs in the air and her screams in his ears.

The tiny annoying dogs from next door started howling, and Stannis huffed out a laugh and fucked her harder. He was determined that this time she would need at least an hour to recover before being able to stumble out of bed like a shaky-legged foal.

In the end, she needed _two._

***

“Where have you _been?_ ”

Sansa winced at the frightened and slightly hysterical note in Jeyne’s voice. She had meant to call and let Jeyne know that she was safe, but she had been so… distracted that first day at Stannis’ house that she had forgotten. She had remembered to send a vague text on the second day, telling Jeyne she was okay, but then her phone had died.

… And she had continued to be _distracted._

“I was with Stannis,” Sansa said, blushing and stepping out of the heels she had worn when she had left the apartment three days ago. She was wearing her green dress, too, and it felt utterly weird as it was morning and it was _obviously_ evening wear.

“For three days? I was about to call the cops!” Jeyne exclaimed, still sounding upset. “Did he tie you up in some freaky sex dungeon or something?”

Sansa’s face felt even hotter as she shook her head. He _had_ tied her up at one point, but that hadn’t been for very long.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I did text you that I was fine, didn’t I?” Sansa said, collapsing on the gorgeous antique couch they had found for a ridiculous bargain at a garage sale. “My phone died after that.”

“If it hadn’t been for that text I would have thought you had died,” Jeyne said, sitting down beside her. “But apparently it was only _la petite mort_ ,” she added with a snort.

Sansa glared at her friend, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. And not the fun sexy kind of embarrassment she had been exploring with Stannis for the past three days.

“That’s none of your business,” Sansa said pertly.

“Oh, yes it is,” Jeyne said, “you have got to give me _something._ You were obviously having some sort of sex marathon, and I haven’t been with a guy in weeks. Let me live vicariously through you!”

“It’s _private,_ ” Sansa hissed.

Jeyne rolled her eyes theatrically. “Don’t go into detail, then.”

Sansa stared at Jeyne and wondered if there was anything she could say about the past few days that wouldn’t make it seem like she had been exploring her kinks with a very enthusiastic and creative partner.

“I’ve pretty much been naked since Tuesday,” Sansa said with a sigh, “and that’s all I’m telling you.” She stood up, and headed for her room. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ve missed my shampoo.”

“I’m telling everyone that you’re a nympho if you don’t at least tell me whether he went down on you,” Jeyne threatened.

Sansa sighed and decided to just tell her. She knew the nympho thing was an empty threat, but she couldn’t risk it. 

“Four times.”

“Oh, my gods, marry him!”

Sansa giggled all the way to her shower.

***

Stannis’ house felt empty and sad without Sansa there. He had become accustomed to her presence surprisingly fast, and letting her go had not been easy. She had insisted that Jeyne would get worried if she didn’t return at some point, however, so he had reluctantly released her.

It was Friday, and he was already at the office, having said good-bye to Sansa when he had dropped her off at her apartment. It was completely illogical, but he was having an even more difficult time of focusing on work today than he’d been having for the past few days. Somehow it was better for his concentration to know that Sansa was waiting for him with open arms (and legs) at the end of the day than it was to know that she was _not._

All he could think about was when he’d be able to see her again, and the uncertainty was driving him mad.

Perhaps he could just invite her to come over again once she was done reassuring her friend that she was alive and well? Ask her to spend the weekend with him?

They could go on an excursion to an upscale sex shop and stock up on some things…

The thought was too tempting to resist. He’d call her in the afternoon. Surely her phone would be charged by then?

***

“You’re spending the whole weekend with him?” Jeyne sounded both jealous and outraged. “When are you going to catch up on your schoolwork?”

“I did a lot of it today,” Sansa said with a shrug, “and I promise I’ll go to all my classes next week.”

“You’d better,” Jeyne grumbled.

***

Sansa stared at Stannis. When he said he wanted to take her shopping she had thought he meant _clothes._ (Okay, fine. She had thought he meant lingerie.) The shop he had driven them to hadn’t looked like anything very scandalous on the outside, but now that she was inside the door…

“This is a sex shop,” she whispered, blushing at the objects on display all around her. She had been to sex shops before, of course, but always _alone._

“You told me you were used to using a vibrator,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Sansa blushed more deeply at the memory of how he had managed to get her to tell him that.

“What if someone we know sees us here?” she hissed, looking around the shop worriedly. There did not seem to be a lot of customers inside, but Sansa was still rather anxious. It was one thing if someone saw her out with Stannis and eating dinner and it got back to her family, but it was quite another if her family found out about her relationship with Stannis because someone spotted them at a sex shop together!

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Stannis said, looking completely confident. 

His confidence helped her relax enough to start giving the items on the shelves curious glances, but she was still blushing.

“So, are we looking for anything in particular?” she asked him in a low voice that wouldn’t carry.

“A vibrator, presumably,” Stannis said, the corner of his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Oh, okay,” she squeaked, willing herself to stop blushing. She was an adult. She could go to a sex shop with her… boyfriend? without dying of embarrassment.

It became a little easier to act normal after that. She even felt a little turned on when she started to consider what it might be like to have Stannis use a vibrator on her. Or have him watch as she used it on herself... 

Sansa was tempted to choose a vibrator that was similar to the little one she had at home, but somehow that didn’t seem quite right. Stannis said that it was completely up to her, but she noticed his eyes lingering on the vibrators that would function as dildoes, too. She decided to get one of the smaller ones. If she wanted something _big_ she knew where to get it. 

Stannis’ eyes darkened noticeably when she worked up the nerve to whisper reasoning behind her choice in his ear.

“Would you like to get anything else?” he asked once she had the box with her desired toy in her hands.

Sansa bit her lip and looked around. There was a section with lingerie and costumes that she was rather curious about. Stannis noticed her interest and made a polite hand gesture that said: ‘after you.’

Feeling a bit shy, she started to look at the clothing on display. There were corsets, stockings and garter belts, schoolgirl skirts, nurse’s uniforms, french maid costumes, and all sorts of lace and leather.

“Is - um - is any of this something you’d want me to wear for you?” Sansa asked, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the choices. She liked the idea of wearing something sexy for him, but she had no idea what he might like.

“I prefer it when you’re naked,” he said into her ear, his breath warm.

Sansa bit back a moan and shifted so that she could stand with her thighs pressed close together.

“But perhaps something like that?” Stannis nodded towards a pale blue babydoll negligé, almost innocent aside from the fact that it was sheer. The panties that came with it were tiny, lacy and very pretty.

She could easily imagine wearing something like that negligé, and was immediately attracted to the colour; it would look very nice with her eyes.

“I like it,” she said, glancing at the price tag a little too late. It was _ridiculously_ expensive. She couldn’t ask him to buy her something so costly when they hadn’t even talked about their relationship or decided what they were to one another.

“This one’s about your size, isn’t it?”

“I - I suppose, but -”

“I’ll go to the register, then. Why don’t you look around some more?

“Oh, but I -”

He was already walking away. Sansa briefly considered going after him and explaining that the negligé was much too expensive and that she couldn’t accept it, but it seemed a little childish to do such a thing inside this glamorous shop, and she was quite aware that the cost of the negligé was probably pocket change to someone like Stannis.

Sansa wandered around aimlessly, too distracted to really register her surroundings. Was she making a mistake by accepting such an expensive _sexual_ gift so early in their relationship? She really didn’t want to give the wrong impression. But what impression _was_ she giving by accepting it? That she was willing to wear sexy lingerie for Stannis? She had already proved that she was willing to do much more than that, so could it really do any harm?

“I thought you said you didn’t really want to explore that sort of play?” Stannis said, sounding amused when he found her standing in front of one of the display cases, lost in thought.

Sansa blinked at him and looked at the toys she had been ignoring.

Butt plugs. Really fancy ones.

She felt her face go up in flames and she decided to just hurry towards the door.

***

Spending the weekend with Stannis changed things. They did much more than just have mind-boggling amounts of sex. They talked and cooked and kept getting to know each other the way they had been doing ever since they met on the train.

Stannis told her about his daughter Shireen who lived with Selyse, was Arya’s age and smart as a whip, his childhood in the stormlands, his unlikely friendship with a man called Davos, his years at University and his complicated relationship with his brothers.

He didn’t say much about his ex-wife, and Sansa didn’t ask.

Sansa told him everything he wanted to know in return, and probably a few stories that bored him to tears, though he was an avid listener and never seemed to tire of hearing her speak.

She could not remember very many men ever showing an interest in her hopes, her dreams and her aspirations before. Nor could she remember anyone looking so captivated by her plans to open an interior design firm with Jeyne and her dream of becoming the most sought-after interior designer in King’s Landing -- perhaps even in all of Westeros.

By Sunday evening Sansa was feeling more fulfilled than she had felt in _years._ The intense sexual satisfaction certainly played a part, but mostly she felt that Stannis _saw_ her. Saw, heard, and wanted _all of her._

Sansa wanted all of him in return.

“I know we’ve been doing this for less than a week -” Sansa said, turning to cuddle up to Stannis’ chest. She had been facing away from him, enjoying the way he had been lazily scratching her back. “- But I wondered if we could have the talk, anyway.”

“The talk?” Stannis said, sounding curious.

“You know, where is this going? What are we to each other? The _talk._ ”

“Ah, I see.” He sounded calm or perhaps even pleased. “I think that would be appropriate,” he added.

They were both silent for a few beats, probably both waiting for the other to start.

“Shall I go first?” Stannis eventually asked, his words a little stilted.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed, feeling relieved. She was pretty sure they were on the same page, but it would be awkward if she went first and asked for a _relationship_ and it turned out that he just wanted a couple of weeks of fucking.

“I’m not the sort of man who takes a woman to bed on a whim,” Stannis began, sounding absurdly solemn, “and I believe you are similarly selective.” He was holding her quite close, and one of his thumbs was stroking the skin of her upper arm lightly. “To answer your questions, I think we should go towards a deeper involvement, and I should like to think of you as my… girlfriend.”

“I want that too,” Sansa hurried to say, “I want to be your girlfriend.” She rose up so that she could look into his eyes and was pleased to find him looking at her with an incredibly gratified expression on his face.

They kissed for a while, their tongues once again exploring mouths that were rapidly becoming familiar and tastes that were becoming more addictive with each kiss.

When they broke apart to cuddle some more, Sansa took a deep breath and hoped what she was about to say wouldn’t ruin their languid mood completely.

“When should we tell everyone?”

Stannis tensed for a moment, but relaxed before she could really read anything into it. “When would you usually tell your family about a new relationship?” he asked.

“Soonish,” Sansa said after taking a few seconds to think it over, “I usually like to keep them in the loop.”

“Would waiting a month be out of the question?” he asked, his voice serious.

“Why a month?”

“The fundraiser will be held a month from now,” Stannis explained, “I should like you to accompany me. As my date.”

Sansa’s heart started to beat much faster. Going to such a public event on Stannis’ arm would be quite the statement.

“I don’t really want to keep it from my parents that long,” Sansa said, feeling a bit hesitant.

“I understand,” Stannis said, stroking her hair gently. “Mostly I want to keep it from the King’s Landing society,” he added, “I know how these things work. If the papers get wind of this relationship before the fundraiser it will be difficult to get reporters to focus on the event instead of us.”

“You think the papers will be interested in us?” It seemed a bit absurd.

“We won’t make the front page, but I expect we’ll be considered interesting enough for the society pages,” he sighed, sounding annoyed by the prospect.

Sansa was quiet for a while as she thought about Stannis’ words.

“Jeyne already knows, and I’d like to tell my parents, but otherwise I don’t mind flying under the radar for a month,” she said at length

“The most important thing is to keep it from my brothers for the time being,” Stannis muttered. It sounded as if the very idea of his brother finding out _pained_ him.

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Sansa said, unable to disguise her amusement.

Stannis grunted, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you want me to put the negligé on again?” Sansa asked, wanting to dispel the serious mood and do something _fun._

“That depends,” Stannis said, his voice deepening and causing a shiver of anticipation to run through her body, “will you let me put some very unseemly stains on it?”

He wanted to come on her negligé? That was new.

“Sure, but you’ll have to take responsibility for having it cleaned,” she giggled, “my usual dry cleaner is such a sweet old lady. I don’t want to give her a heart attack.”

“And what do you think my dry cleaner will think? Finding it thrown in along with my suits?” Stannis’ fingers had found their way to one of her nipples and he was tweaking it as he spoke, making her squirm.

“They’ll think you got laid,” she whispered, trying to make her voice sound wicked.

Stannis huffed out a laugh and pinched her nipple a little harder before pulling his hand away. “Go put it on, then.”

She didn’t need to be told twice.


	12. The Lioness

“I hear you’re throwing a fundraiser in a couple of weeks,” Cersei said, apparently taking a break from her usual schedule of ignoring the fact that Stannis existed.

Stannis put his cutlery down and looked at his sister-in-law, trying to figure out why she was asking him about the fundraiser.

“I am,” he said slowly, glancing at Robert. His brother was busily cutting up his steak, looking as if the food in front of him was the only thing he was interested in. “You and Robert are both invited, of course. Renly and Loras, too.” He nodded at his younger brother, but Renly wasn’t paying attention.

Cersei raised an eyebrow at that, a peculiar gleam in her eyes.

“A little bird told me that you’ll be bringing a date,” she said, raising her glass of wine to her lips and taking a slow sip.

Robert stopped focusing on his food at that. “A date? Stannis?” he asked, looking surprised and amused.

Stannis took a deep breath and tried not to grimace or grind his teeth. “Yes. How did you find out about it?” He looked searchingly at Cersei, wondering how much she knew.

She ignored his question. “Is it the redhead?” she asked instead, tilting her head to the side and giving him a sickly sweet smile.

Stannis stiffened in his chair. “What redhead?”

“The one you’ve been spotted with at a few restaurants,” Cersei said, rolling her eyes. “I doubt there’s more than one silly young redhead willing to subject herself to _you._ ”

“You’ve actually been taking a woman to dinner?” Robert sounded _thrilled._

This seemed to catch Renly’s attention. He and Loras had been busy gazing into each other’s eyes, or whatever it was that newlyweds did, and had been ignoring the conversation Cersei had started.

“Stannis has a girlfriend?” Renly asked, looking at Robert rather than at Stannis for answers.

“Cersei says so,” Robert said, taking a generous sip of his beer.

Renly looked at Cersei, his face one big question mark.

Cersei shrugged very delicately and continued to nurse her wine.

Only then did Renly think to look to Stannis for answers.

“You have a girlfriend?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as if he were trying to picture Stannis next to a woman.

“Yes,” Stannis said, keeping his answer deliberately short so that he could go back to attempting to eat his steak. He really didn’t want to talk about this with his brothers. 

“Well?” Robert laughed, “who is she?”

“I’ll introduce her to you at the fundraiser at the end of the month,” Stannis said through gritted teeth, glaring at Cersei for bringing this up. He had really been hoping to avoid having this conversation with his brothers.

“At least tell us her name,” Renly said, looking briefly at Loras who was nodding.

“No.”

“Robert, tell him to tell us her name.”

Stannis rolled his eyes. Annoying little brothers would apparently always be annoying little brothers.

“Stannis, don’t be stupid, tell us the girl’s name.”

… And annoying older brothers would also apparently always be annoying older brothers.

“I’ve told you, I’ll introduce her to you at the fundraiser. If you want to learn her name then all you have to do is show up.”

Robert and Renly grumbled that Stannis was being obstinate, but they seemed to be about to accept his words and move on when Cersei cleared her throat lightly. 

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“I’m actually throwing a party that same night,” Cersei said sweetly, “I’ll expect Robert to be there. Renly and Loras are invited, too.”

Since when was Cersei throwing a party the same exact night he was throwing the fundraiser?

“I’m still not telling you her name until after the fundraiser,” Stannis said through clenched teeth.

“Why the secrecy? Do you have something to hide?” Cersei asked, her voice deceptively light and pleasant.

Stannis explained that he wanted the media to focus on the fundraiser, not on his romantic liaisons.

Robert and Renly seemed to accept this, and Stannis was not surprised. They had both had their names and their various lovers plastered all over the society pages in the past; they ought to be able to sympathise with Stannis’ wish for privacy.

“Oh, but the media is already wondering who this mystery girl of yours is,” Cersei said with vicious amusement in her eyes.

“What?” Stannis barked, glaring at her and trying to will the truth to come pouring out of her. He had been reading the society pages of all the three major newspapers in King’s Landing ever since he started dating Sansa, and none of them had so much as mentioned his name.

“All the gossip blogs in the city have been speculating over the identity of the girl for days and days,” Cersei revealed. She was smirking rather obnoxiously.

Gossip blogs… of course. He never paid attention to them.

“They’ll have to continue to speculate for a little longer,” Stannis said, his words clipped and his jaw clenched. He did not wish to discuss the matter further.

Cersei raised an eyebrow and went back to picking listlessly at her meal. He did not know why she had bothered hiring a chef from a Michelin-starred restaurant. She seemed to subsist on wine and spite.

The rest of the monthly ordeal that was the Baratheon brothers’ dinner party passed in the usual manner. Robert got too drunk and started reminiscing about his glory days, Renly and Loras started gossiping rather meanly about anyone who dared do anything they deemed worth gossiping about, and Cersei’s mask of beautiful placidness slipped more and more, revealing hints of her burning hatred for Robert and this torturous tradition.

Stannis said little, and watched the clock. Soon it would be late enough that his brothers would not stop him if he attempted to leave.

***

“I’m outside,” Stannis said, sitting in his car outside Sansa’s apartment building, his phone on speaker.

“I thought you had that dinner with your brothers tonight?” Sansa sounded confused.

“I did,” Stannis explained, “it just ended. Since I was on the road I decided to see if you’d like to join me for the rest of the evening.”

“I have some studying to do…”

“Of course, I should have called ahead before coming here.” Stannis tried not to let his disappointment be heard, but the truth was that he desperately needed to spend time with Sansa after suffering through that dinner.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Sansa said, a playful tone in her voice that made Stannis’ heart leap, “I do have some studying to do, but I think it can wait until tomorrow.”

Stannis heard Jeyne’s voice echoing in the background. (“Slut!”)

Stannis would have felt affronted on Sansa’s behalf, but the past two weeks had taught him that Sansa and Jeyne had a peculiar way of communicating.

“I’ll be downstairs in a minute,” Sansa promised.

The call ended, and Stannis occupied himself by examining some of the other cars in the parking lot. Mostly small, inexpensive models. Old and and well-loved. He had never driven a car like that in college but he remembered that a lot of his fellow students had.

It took Sansa longer than a minute to come down to the car, and Stannis toyed with the idea of telling her that she would be punished for her tardiness. After his evening of feeling relatively powerless in the face of his family, he rather liked the idea of tying Sansa up and having his way with her while she moaned in ecstatic pleasure.

“That wasn’t a minute,” he said, deepening his voice and hoping she would be in the mood to play along. She usually was.

He hadn’t started the car yet as Sansa was still buckling her seatbelt. He watched as understanding dawned on her face. Once she had understood she widened her eyes theatrically and bit her lip in that way that made him want to _growl._

“I’m sorry,” she said in her most innocent tone of voice, “are we in a hurry?”

“That’s not the point,” he said, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot. “The point is that you said one thing and did another. You know how I feel about that.”

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said, using a tone of voice that was at once playful and meek, “how would you like me to make up for it?”

“I’m afraid I will have to punish you when we get home,” he told her, not taking his eyes off the road and making sure his expression was still as stone and unreadable.

“Oh, _no._ ” Sansa didn’t sound particularly upset. He almost smiled.

As soon as they walked through the front door Stannis loosened his tie and gave Sansa a stern look.

She giggled and started to take her clothes off.

“This is a punishment, Sansa,” he reminded her, kissing her ruthlessly to stop her inappropriate giggles.

He watched as she struggled to keep a straight face after their kiss broke, hurriedly stripping for him just as he wanted. Once she was naked, she gave him a questioning look.

“To bed,” he instructed, following in her wake as she walked up the stairs. No running was allowed.

It was Sansa’s job to get rid of the bedspread if she didn’t want to be fucked on top of it, and Stannis enjoyed the view as she bent over to reach the far corner of the bed.

“Lie face down. Stretch your hands towards the headboard,” he ordered, undoing the knot of his tie and sliding it from around his neck with a soft swish.

Sansa watched his hands and blushed. She clearly knew he was about to tie her up.

With a nod she did as he asked, and he heard the way her breathing hitched when he tied her wrists together and fastened them to the headboard with his expensive silk tie. It would get hopelessly wrinkled after this, but his dry cleaner (who did not seem to mind cleaning unseemly stains from tiny negligés) would probably be up to the task of getting them out.

He grabbed a pillow and went to place it under her hips so that her arse would be raised up for his pleasure. “Up,” he ordered, smacking her arse lightly to get her to lift her hips to accommodate the pillow.

He admired her for a good long while, staying silent and watching as she started to squirm.

“Stannis?” she finally asked, straining her neck to look around at him.

“Do you want me to gag you?” he asked, giving her a stern look.

Her gaze had already been heated, but she blushed at his words and the heat in her eyes intensified.

“One more word out of you and I will,” he promised. “There will be no talking without permission.”

She looked at him for a little longer, aroused and excited, before turning to bury her face in a pillow. 

“Spread your legs.” He walked over to the nightstand and found the vibrator they had bought, as well as the lubricant. He wanted her to listen as he coated the dildo with it, and he wanted her to wonder what he was going to do.

She spread her legs obediently, and he was glad to see that she was already rather wet. Her muscles were tense, however, and he could tell that she was nervous.

“You have to keep still and _silent_ while I do what I’m about to do. The only exception to that rule is if you want me to stop. You are under no circumstances allowed to come.”

He turned the vibrator on and let her listen to the quiet buzzing. She squirmed.

“No squirming,” he ordered, smacking her arse.

She moaned, and he gave her arse another smack. “No moaning.”

He knew he was making this almost impossible for her, and that he was pretty much setting her up to fail, but he was fairly sure she would enjoy what would happened when she inevitably _did_ fail to follow his ridiculous rules.

Stannis let her listen to the vibrator buzz for a little longer as he made himself comfortable on the bed beside her. She hadn’t moved or made a noise since he had last slapped her arse, and her body was all coiled tension and contracted muscles.

She flinched when the vibrator came into contact with her exposed folds, and he didn’t say anything about it. He would not punish her for an involuntary reaction to the cold lubricant coming into contact with her searing hot flesh.

He started to move the vibrating dildo in tight, slow circles, not pushing it inside, not hurrying one bit. He was fully erect inside his suit trousers, but he didn’t care. He needed the rush of power that Sansa was so happy and willing to give him much more than he needed a physical release. (Though he would definitely be getting his release later.)

“At dinner I found out that my sister-in-law intends to throw a party on the same night as my fundraiser,” he told Sansa conversationally, watching as her thighs started to quiver. “She also informed me that the gossip bloggers of King’s Landing have spotted us out together and are trying to discover your identity.”

Sansa didn’t say anything, and she didn’t move. Her thighs were still quivering, however, and Stannis started to moved the dildo up and down between her drenched entrance and her mound.

He did this for several minutes, watching her body jump as if due to electric shocks every time the dildo brushed that sensitive bundle of nerves he loved to play with.

A muffled sound that could have been a particularly loud breath eventually escaped her.

“Do you want to come?” he asked, “you may move if you do.”

She immediately started wriggling, using the motion in an attempt to rub herself against the dildo. He spanked her and she stopped.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” he asked, deepening his voice and trying to keep from breathing too heavily.

The clever girl did not make a sound, nor did she move again.

“Ah, you think that if you’re a good girl I’ll let you come, don’t you?”

No sound. No movement.

Stannis turned the vibrator off and placed it on the bed. He was surprised to note that it _was_ possible for Sansa to tense up more. Feeling fairly confident that she wouldn’t object to what he was about to do, he reached for the bottle of lubricant with one hand and placed the other on Sansa’s arse. He kept it there for a moment, letting her wait, and then he used it to splay her buttocks apart while he upended the bottle of lube and squeezed a few generous dollops out, letting them fall right between her cheeks.

She inhaled sharply, but didn’t ask him to stop. She was clearly curious about what he was planning.

He put the lube away and picked the silent vibrator up again.

“You can tell me to stop at any time,” he reminded her, “but if you take your punishment like a good girl I will give your more orgasms than you’ll know what to do with.”

Sansa didn’t ask him to stop.

Without turning the vibrator on, he started to rub it against her back entrance. It slid easily in the lubricant, and Sansa still did not ask him to stop. She had never objected while he did not try to push anything inside her.

After a little while he observed that her muscles seemed less tense, and that she was breathing slowly. She was enjoying this.

He turned the vibrations on and smirked when she tensed up again.

The tension faded even more quickly this time, however, and he noticed that her thighs were quivering again. Not only was she enjoying this, _she was getting off on this._

He held the vibrator firmly against her tight little hole, watching her carefully and enjoying it rather a lot when she started to push up against it in return. Maybe she didn’t think she wanted that part of her invaded, but her body clearly had a mind of its own.

Stannis was just about to ask her if she’d had enough when Sansa started to quiver even more violently than before, and her breathing became louder than ever.

_Was she… ?_

He pressed the vibrator still more firmly against her, not quite firmly enough to make it slip inside, but nearly, and she made a sound he recognised at once.

She _was._

He waited until she stopped shaking and then pulled the vibrator away.

“What did I say about coming?” he asked, managing to hide his excitement better than he would have expected. Just knowing that she was sensitive enough to come this way was enough to kick his imagination into overdrive. Perhaps now that she knew what sort of pleasure was available to her she would want to experiment a bit more? Maybe she’d want to try some toys that were designed to pleasure that part of her?

He had a very clear vision of taking her out to dinner with a little plug lodged up her lovely arse, watching her sit and behave like the perfect lady for _hours,_ surrounded by people who had no idea how the embarrassment of it all was making her soak through her panties, and it made his cock twitch eagerly against the fly of his trousers.

Sansa kept still and quiet. Her face was buried in a pillow, but he knew that she was bright red as he could see a bit of her neck.

“I thought I made myself clear,” he added with a heavy sigh. “What am I to do with such a disobedient girl?”

He started to stroke her, starting between her shoulder blades and trailing his hand down until he reached her arse before starting back up again. She was a little sticky with perspiration, but he didn’t mind. Sometimes he used his short nails to scratch her skin lightly, making her shudder with pleasure.

“I think disobedient girls don’t deserve any more orgasms,” he said, squeezing her arse lightly and then moving up to set her hands free. “I think disobedient girls deserve to be gagged with my cock.”

Stannis waited for a few beats, letting his words sink in.

“Get into position,” he said once he was sure she had understood him. He was already getting his cock out. _Finally._

She hurriedly moved to lie on her back with her head hanging off the edge of the bed. Her face was just as red as he had suspected -- even before gravity started to do its work.

They had discussed this after their first attempt, and Sansa had told him that she wanted to keep practising this. That she thought she might be able to get better at it, and that it didn’t hurt too much if they took it slow. They had done this a few times, and Sansa was starting to be able to tolerate it for a few minutes at a time before she asked him to move back. Last time he had been able to execute a little bit of slow thrusting; a very gentle fucking of her throat.

It was fascinating and almost hypnotising to look at her extended neck and see the outline of his cock invading her throat. The sensation of her airway contracting around him when she swallowed was enough to him almost all the way to the edge, and he groaned in pleasure and appreciation, feeling overwhelmed that this gorgeous amazing girl was so willing to do this with him.

He was careful not to ask too much of her, and pulled back when he noticed that she was starting to struggle.

“That was good,” he praised, trying not to sound quite as breathless as he was. “Good girl,” he added, helping her sit up on the bed.

Sansa had tears in her eyes as she always did after this, but there was a pleased light in them, and she was smiling and practically glowing due to his words.

“I think you’ve earned a reward,” he said indulgently, leaning in to kiss her. He unbuttoned his shirt as he tasted her tongue, enjoying her enthusiasm for the kiss. She always kissed him like it was her first time with a man: eager, willing and curious.

It was a little hard to get naked while kissing, so he was forced to break the kiss a few times, but eventually they were both tangled up in each other, lying on the bed and making out like teenagers.

“What sort of reward would you like?” he murmured into her ear after a while, pinching her nipples gently as he spoke.

Sansa gave him a questioning look.

“You may speak,” he said, hiding an amused smirk. She really was _such_ a good girl when it came to following his rules. It was only really when he made them impossible to follow that she had any trouble with them.

“I need you inside,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.

“Inside _where?_ ” he asked, raising an eyebrow and causing her to look down, her eyelashes fluttering prettily.

Instead of answering him with words she guided one of his hands to her wet entrance and pushed two of his fingers inside, letting him feel her inner walls clamping down on the digits.

“You want me to finger you?” he asked, starting to do just that.

“No,” she moaned.

“You’re giving me very mixed signals,” he sighed, pulling his fingers away. “What would you liked me to use if not my fingers?”

Sansa blushed and squirmed and gave him a desperate look. “Your cock. _Please,_ ”

“Which position would you like?” he asked.

“Could you - could you go on top?” she asked, biting her lip shyly.

He nodded, his cock jumping at the sight of her teeth digging into her plump lower lip.

It was always bliss to sink into her heat, but there was something extra satisfying about it tonight. The vision of that special embarrassing dinner returned to him, and he couldn’t help but whisper his fantasy to her as he started to fuck her with steady, deep thrusts, noticing the way she squeezed him tighter when he explained the situation he wanted to put her in.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, keeping his thrusts nice and steady, “do you want to try something like that?”

“Stannis,” she whined, “I _can’t._ ”

“Yes you can,” he murmured, loving the way she was fluttering around his cock, blushing and whimpering. “Just tell me the truth like a good girl.”

She squirmed underneath him and grabbed his arse, obviously trying to get him to go faster and harder.

“I won’t fuck you any harder than this until you answer me,” he said, able to keep his voice steady and stern by some miracle.

“ _Stannis,_ ” she whined again, drawing his name out and pouting.

He gave her a _look_ and continued to drag his cock in and out of her, even slowing down a little just to make a point.

“I’ll make it easy for you,” he said, taking pity on her when she started to use her wide blue eyes to beg for mercy. “If you think you might want to try something like I described you just have to nod. Shake your head if you absolutely don’t.”

He was starting to sweat quite a lot, and his cock was getting impatient with him, but he forced himself to stay the course.

Sansa was flushed red from her forehead down to her nipples when she nodded, and the sight of it, and more importantly the _implications_ of it, made him lose all control of himself. He started to thrust with complete abandon, sitting up on his knees so he’d have more leverage, snapping his hips and grunting with every breath he took. She was practically screaming with pleasure almost as soon as he changed his pace, clenching around him and quite clearly coming. _Hard._

It did not take him very long to follow her.

When his orgasm overtook him, he closed his eyes and saw a vision of himself taking Sansa to that sex shop again and making her pick out a few new toys for herself. Maybe he’d even make her go to the register this time and have her ask for plenty of lubricant. The embarrassment of having to do that would probably have her spreading her legs in the foyer as soon as they got back to the house.

Or maybe they’d just have a go in the backseat of his car?

Their breathing was back to normal by the time Sansa spoke, and they were lying side by side: sweaty, naked, and sticky with their combined fluids and probably a little lube, too.

He expected her to say something about how she hadn’t meant it, and that she really didn’t want to make the fantasy he had whispered to her a reality, but she decided to start talking about something completely different.

“Did you say the gossip blogs are trying to figure out who I am?”

Stannis had to blink for a while as his brain groaned with effort of remembering anything that didn’t have to do with sex.

“Yes,” he confirmed once he remembered what she was talking about, turning to lie on his side and rising up on one elbow so that he could look at her face.

“Do they have pictures?”

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe I should check… if they have pictures it’s possible that someone who knows me will eventually see them and recognise me. Even if they’re poor quality.”

“Mm.” He was too blissed out to really say anything sensible.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything,” she told him, apparently unconcerned with his poor verbal skills. “What sort of party is Cersei throwing?” she went on, giving him a searching look.

“Uh,” he said, stalling for time, “I don’t really know.” He hadn’t thought to ask.

“If it’s a really big party she might be inviting a lot of the people we’re inviting to the fundraiser,” Sansa pointed out.

That might be a problem.

“Which event do you think people would choose?” Sansa asked, her brow furrowing.

Cersei’s parties were renowned for being lavish and exclusive. It was considered a great accomplishment to be invited to one of her soirées, and from what Stannis had heard, it was common for a great deal of debauchery to take place in the small hours of the night.

“Probably Cersei’s,” he said, scowling at the thought.

“Well, do you think she could be persuaded to change the date of her party? Or maybe you could have the date of the fundraiser changed?”

“No,” he sighed, “I know there was a problem booking the venue for the fundraiser. The venue in question - the only one that I’m told met all our criteria - was booked up until the end of the year, but the slot we got opened up due to a last minute cancellation.”

“What about getting Cersei to move her party to a different date, then?”

Stannis snorted. He had a very distinct feeling that Cersei was throwing her party on the night of the fundraiser for a reason. A vindictive reason. She would laugh in his face if he asked her to change the date around.

“Most likely impossible.” He flopped down on his pillow, feeling a bit forlorn.

“Let’s hope she isn’t inviting everyone on the fundraiser’s guest list, then,” Sansa said with a sigh.

“Yes,” Stannis said, frowning at the ceiling, “let’s.”

It would be disastrous if Cersei’s party prevented the richest people in King’s Landing from coming to the fundraiser and donating their gold, but it would be just like her to do something like that out of spite.

And there was nothing Stannis could do to stop her.


	13. Gossip

Sansa was in class, but she wasn’t really paying attention. She could afford to let her mind wander as the professor had gone off on a tangent due to a question someone had asked, but she’d probably be letting her mind wander even if she couldn’t afford to.

She’d had an orgasm from being stimulated back _there._ It was all she had been able to think about for two days.

What did it mean?

She had looked up the article on orgasms on Wikipedia and read it from top to bottom, and she had felt a little more at ease after that, but she was still blushing a bit every now and then at the memory of what had happened.

Sansa had known that her clitoris was more than just that little bundle of nerves near her mound. She wasn’t totally ignorant about her own body. She knew that the little bundle was just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. But she had still been surprised to learn that it was possible for women to receive significant pleasure from anal play. She had always thought one needed a prostate to like that sort of thing.

If she was completely honest with herself she knew that it wasn’t just a physical pleasure for her, however. It had excited her to have something so _naughty_ and _embarrassing_ done to her, and because she had known that she could trust Stannis not to take it too far, she had been able to enjoy it the wicked thrill of it.

“I recommend reading chapter seven before next week’s class,” the professor said, and everyone around Sansa started to pack up.

Sansa put her things away and ambled over to the cafeteria. She picked up a yogurt and found a seat near some business majors she had occasionally seen Jeyne hang out with in the hope that Jeyne might find her way over there at some point. She almost changed her mind about sitting near them when she realised what they were talking about, however.

“I thought he was asexual, actually.”

“No, he was married before, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, he has a kid.”

“But he’s never been seen with any women since the divorce, and if you compare him with Robert Baratheon he definitely _is_ asexual.”

“ _You’re_ asexual compared with Robert Baratheon.”

“Touché.”

“Who do you think she is, though?”

“She looks really pretty based on the pictures.”

“Well, Stannis Baratheon would hardly break his dry spell for a dog.”

“Why not? Have you _seen_ his ex-wife?”

“My father says he’s _dying_ to find out who managed to turn Mr. Baratheon’s head. He says every CEO in King’s Landing is gossiping about it and following the blogs.”

“He works for Mace Tyrell, doesn’t he? Your father?”

“Yeah, and Mace is apparently mad as hell because he’s been trying to throw pretty girls at Stannis for years in order to get an in with him. It’s never worked.”

“Well, after what happened back when the Tyrell corporation attempted a pretty hostile takeover of the Storm’s End division of Baratheon Enterprises I’m not surprised Mr. Baratheon is reluctant to play ball with Mace.”

“His money seems to be good enough for Mr. Baratheon, though. Mace got invited to his fancy fundraiser.”

“ _Everyone_ who’s anyone got invited to that.”

“Yeah, and they all got invited to Cersei Lannister’s party the same night.”

“Which event do you think everyone is going to choose?”

“Dad heard through the grapevine that Mace was actually having trouble deciding.”

“Really? I would have thought going to the Lannister party would be a no-brainer. They usually give all the guests goodie bags with _solid gold_ key-chains or compacts or stuff like that.”

“Usually it would be a no-brainer, but Dad said that Mace is thinking of going to Mr. Baratheon’s fundraiser on the off chance that he’ll be bringing the mystery girl as a date.”

“Oh, that makes sense, I guess.”

The group of students started talking about a paper someone still hadn’t started working on after that, and Sansa used the opportunity to quietly sneak off.

She had spent some time the previous day looking at the pictures the gossip blogs had been circulating of her and Stannis, and had been relieved to see that she was completely unrecognisable in all of them. They were usually taken from a distance and blurry, and in the few pictures that weren’t like that they didn’t manage to show her face. The fact that she was usually dressed to the nines in the pictures helped disguise her identity a little bit, too. Most of the time she was much more casually dressed, and the pretty dresses made her look a bit older. She doubted anyone expected Stannis’ ‘mystery girl’ to be a University student.

Her parents had certainly not expected Stannis to want to take up with a University student. Sansa had to heave a great sigh at the memory of _that_ phone call.

 _”What do you mean you’re in a relationship with Stannis?”_ her mother had said, sounding mildly horrified, _”he’s your father’s age!”_

Her father hadn’t been able to get any words out at all.

At the end of the call Sansa had been forced to hang up even though her father hadn’t said a single word and her mother was still asking her if she was _sure_ she wanted to involve herself with a much older man.

Sansa had managed to make her mother promise that they wouldn’t tell Robert yet, but that was pretty much the only point she had managed to get properly across. Everything about how she really liked Stannis and the way he treated her with care and respect seemed to have fallen on deaf ears.

Maybe it was time to call again now that she had given her parents a couple of weeks to think about the matter and calm down?

Sansa resolved to call her mother in the evening, and hurried off to her next class.

***

“Have you broken up? Are you okay? Do you want me to send you a care package?”

“Mum!” Sansa couldn’t believe how quickly her mother was jumping to conclusions. “Stannis and I are still together.”

“Oh.”

“I’m really happy with him,” Sansa added, trying to use her most sincere ‘please believe me and stop worrying about this’ tone of voice.

“Your father wants to talk to you.”

Sansa wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing and felt her stomach clench up uncomfortably.

“Sansa?”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Are you - are you sure about what you’re doing?”

“As sure as anyone is at the start of a new relationship, I guess,” Sansa said, shrugging even though her father wouldn’t be able to see.

“Stannis isn’t - he’s not… pressuring you, is he?”

“Of course not!” She couldn’t believe her father would even _think_ that.

“He’s treating you well? Respectfully?”

“Dad, you know me. You know I wouldn’t accept anything else.” Stannis was always completely respectful with her. Even when they were playing in bed and she wanted him to be wicked with her he was always respectful of her limits. He pushed them sometimes, of course, but he did it gently and in a way that she enjoyed.

“Yes…” It was obvious that her father did know that he was being a bit overbearing to question her like this, but Sansa couldn’t really make herself angry about it. She hadn’t expected her parents to accept her relationship with Stannis without so much as a raised eyebrow. A twenty year age difference wasn’t _nothing._

“This is a good relationship, I promise.”

“You don’t think he’s just… having a bit of fun?”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Dad, have you met Stannis?”

She heard her father sigh on the other end of the line. “I know, I know,” he said, “it wouldn’t really be very like him, would it?”

“No, it really wouldn’t,” Sansa said with a bit of a snort.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” her father said, speaking carefully.

“I know, Daddy.”

Her mother came back after that, and had apparently decided that she had nothing to add regarding Stannis as she changed the subject.

“Did you want to talk about something in particular, sweetheart?”

“Yes, I wanted to ask your opinion about how best to get rich people to come to a party, actually…”

***

“Absolutely not,” Stannis said, furrowing his brow and looking almost offended.

“It will work,” Sansa insisted. Her mother might not be thrilled about the fact that Sansa was in a relationship with Stannis, but that did not prevent her from being able to see how to use the new relationship to help attract guests to the fundraiser.

“It’s _tacky._ ”

“Of course it’s tacky. Everything that has to do with advertising and drumming up publicity is tacky. But it’s going to get people to come to the fundraiser rather than to Cersei’s party. I’m sure of it.”

“How can you be so sure?” Stannis had moved on to looking incredibly sceptical rather than offended.

“I just am. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you.”

“Then what’s the problem? Really?” Sansa knew that she wouldn’t get anywhere with the issue until she found out what was truly bothering Stannis about the plan.

“I’ll sound like _Robert,_ ” Stannis grumbled.

Sansa’s shoulders sagged with relief. Was that all there was to it?

“You won’t sound like Robert. He never introduces his - um - girlfriends to anyone, does he?”

“I - I suppose not.” Stannis frowned and crossed his arms.

“He usually attempts to be discreet, if anything,” Sansa continued, “not that he succeeds very often.” She felt a bit bad about saying it, but it _was_ true. Robert’s reputation as a philanderer preceded him wherever he went.

Stannis snorted. “True.”

“I really think you should do it. Whether you like it or not people are interested in your love life, and it would just be wasteful not to milk that interest for all it’s worth.”

 _There. Got him._ Sansa was careful not to betray her triumph with a smirk, but she was grinning on the inside.

“You may be right,” he sighed. “I’ll - I’ll talk to Davos about arranging something.”

“Great!” Sansa said, high on the thrill of having managed to convince Stannis to do something her way. “Now, what were you saying about going shopping?”

Stannis seemed pleased that she had brought it up, and his eyes darkened in a way that made Sansa feel a little tingly.

“I thought you might want to pick up a few more things where we got your negligé,” he said, his voice deepening slightly.

“Oh.” Would she ever stop blushing about these things? “Okay.”

***

Sansa felt a lot less strange about picking out pretty negligés to wear for Stannis this time around, and had happily selected a set of very risqué lingerie, too. Silk stockings with gorgeous lace details, a garter belt, a bustier, and _everything._

“Do you want to look at the toys?” he asked after she’d finished looking through the section with the lingerie and the costumes.

“I don’t think we really need another vibrator,” Sansa said, biting her lip and giving Stannis a curious look.

“It won’t hurt to have a look,” he said, his tone absurdly serious.

“Okay,” she said, feeling her face warm up.

It was almost like foreplay for her, walking around the store with Stannis on her heels, watching over her shoulder as she examined the shelves upon shelves of obscene toys. Her imagination was running wild, coming up with scenarios where Stannis made her buy something utterly embarrassing, made her put it inside and walk out of the store with it buzzing away between her thighs…

When they were faced with the same display of fancy butt plugs she had ended up running away from last time, she couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if he forced her to wear one of those all the way from the store and until they got home. She felt a literal _gush_ of wetness at the idea. She’d need to change out of her panties soon.

“Do you want one?” Stannis asked, his voice conversational but his eyes very dark with desire.

Sansa had never thought she’d ever want _anything_ to go where those toys were meant to go - except maybe in some very naughty fantasies - but then she had never thought it might actually feel _good_. The orgasm Stannis had given her the other night had made her reconsider the matter.

The idea of trying a toy like that was a little frightening. It would be taking a step she had never _seriously_ considered taking, and she’d have to rearrange her worldview and her view of herself a little. But gods, the thought was turning her on like nothing else, and she was sure Stannis wouldn’t judge her for it, or assume that if she agreed to try it she would want his cock up her arse, too.

She was fairly sure that size _mattered_ in this.

“A small one, maybe?” she whispered, feeling her heart race wildly.

“Anything you want,” Stannis murmured, bending to kiss her neck.

Sansa wished Stannis would just choose one of the little ones for her, but he was adamant that she should pick what she wanted. Probably because he realised how embarrassed she was by it. _Anyone_ would have realised how embarrassed she was by it; her cheeks were glowing red-hot.

Thankfully, just like last time, there weren’t any other customers in the store.

Stannis made her come with him to the register this time. He was holding the lingerie and negligés she had chosen, so she was forced to carry the box with the toy. She couldn’t look the woman behind the counter in the eye when she put the box down, and winced when the cheerful lady asked if they wanted any lubricant with that.

“I think I got enough last time,” Stannis said calmly, not sounding fazed at all.

“Okay, then,” the woman chirped, “but can I interest you in the latest and greatest in long distance pleasure, just arrived today?”

“Long distance?” Stannis sounded rather like he was just humouring the woman while he fished his wallet out from an inside pocket of his jacket.

“Yes, it’s a tiny, very _quiet_ vibrator that can be activated remotely via an app on your phone from anywhere in the world.”

Stannis turned to look at Sansa and raised an eyebrow. Sansa stood frozen, blinking rapidly and unable to focus on anything except how warm her face felt.

“Why not,” Stannis said, handing his credit card over.

***

Sansa was attending a lecture and she wasn’t paying attention. This time it was not because of her distracting thoughts, however. This time it was because she was wearing that little vibrator the woman at the sex shop had convinced Stannis to buy. It wasn’t active at the moment, but just the fact that she knew Stannis could activate it any time was making it impossible for her to listen to what the professor was saying about feng shui.

She had slept over at Stannis’ place after they had gone to the shop yesterday, and Stannis had told her that if she would be a good girl and wear the vibrator for the whole day, he would reward her after dinner. He also promised to arrange to give an exclusive interview about the fundraiser and the ‘mystery girl’ he was dating, but that promise was not contingent on her wearing the vibrator.

If everything went to plan, the interview ought to hit the stands in the next couple of days.

Sansa glanced at the clock above the lecture hall door and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that there were only ten minutes to go until break. The idea of having to sit still and pretend to listen to a serious lecture when the vibrator inevitably came on was mortifying. 

… And distractingly arousing.

The thought was still fresh in her mind when she felt the little device start vibrating. A tiny squeak of surprise escaped her, but no one looked at her. She was glad of it because she could feel herself blushing. Hopefully the professor wouldn’t notice. She was also glad that there was no embarrassing telltale buzz to give her away.

Staring straight ahead and pretending that nothing was happening was not actually that hard. … For the first two minutes. After that it became a real struggle not to squirm. After four minutes she was sweating and giving into the urge to cross and uncross her legs much more frequently than would ever be considered normal.

At the six minute mark she started to come. She had never been forced to come as silently, and despite her best efforts she whimpered. It was only a tiny little noise, and she bit her lip right after to keep herself from making any more, but a girl sitting close by still gave her a look that said: ‘what’s your damage?’

It was then, right in the middle of her orgasm, when the vibrator suddenly stopped.

Every muscle in her body was tense, and she kept the tension for a little while, uncertain whether the thing would start back up or not. When she was relatively sure it had stopped for good she slowly relaxed and took a deep, albeit quiet, breath.

She was completely frazzled for the last few minutes of class, and could hardly get up when it was time to leave. She still felt shaky and uncomfortably aroused by the time she managed to get out of the lecture hall, and in absolutely no mood to get hit on by some random guy in dirty jeans and an ‘ironic’ T-shirt.

“You’re really pretty,” the random guy said with the air of a man delivering some great truth to the unworthy masses.

“Thank you. I have a boyfriend.” Sansa could not deal with this right now. Usually she might have tried to gracefully accept the ‘compliment’ and give the guy the benefit of the doubt, but now she simply played the boyfriend card and hoped he’d be the type to back away from some other man’s ‘property’ without making himself a nuisance.

“Wow, okay. Bitch.” The guy left.

No matter how much she told herself that the stupid waste of space didn’t matter, and that what he said didn’t matter, it still hurt when a stranger called her a bitch.

Thankfully she didn’t have more lectures that day. She did have a workshop to attend, however.

Would it be awful of her if she blew it off in order to buy ice cream and hole up on bed for the rest of the day?

She fantasised about how nice it would be, especially with the vibrator going off every now and then, but after a little while she came back to earth and shook her head at herself. She was meant to go about her day as she normally would. Those were the rules. She had to follow the rules in order to get her reward after dinner, and she _really_ wanted her reward.

Sansa took a deep cleansing breath, steeled herself, and started making her way to the building where her workshop would take place. Jeyne would be there, and Sansa would be able to tell her about the guy in the dirty jeans and they’d have a good laugh at his expense.

Hopefully the vibrator wouldn’t go off while Jeyne was around, though. That would be weird.

***

Stannis hadn’t turned the vibrator on very often in the afternoon, and thankfully she hadn’t had to feel too weird around Jeyne in their workshop, but he seemed to be making up for it now that he had her sitting across from him at a restaurant. Sansa swore he left the thing on almost the whole time. He only gave her tiny breaks when he noticed that she wasn’t able to eat _and_ pretend that she wasn’t having multiple orgams at the dinner table. It was one or the other.

After dessert he turned the vibrator off and pointedly put his phone away, signalling that he wouldn’t be tormenting her further.

Sansa wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, but in the end she simply let herself feel anticipation. Soon he would take her to his house and give her her promised reward.

Was it strange that she hoped her reward would be something simple like being held and stroked and petted? Told that she was wonderful and precious and most certainly not in any way a bitch?

“The reporter ate everything I told her up,” Stannis said as he caught their waiter’s eye and indicated that he’d like the check.

“But you made sure not to mention my name, right?” she asked, anxious that their plan should work.

“Of course.”

“Do you think we should try to stay out of public places from now on? Just until the fundraiser, I mean?”

“Why?” Stannis looked a little dismayed at the idea, which made Sansa feel rather warm inside.

“Well, we don’t want one of the gossip blogs to reveal who I am before the big night. The more we go out together, the more chances they’ll have to get a decent picture of me.”

Stannis nodded seriously. “You’re right,” he said, fixing her with a piercing look, “I shall have to start keeping you confined to my bed again.”

Sansa squirmed in her chair. Her panties were soaked through after... everything, and she was unbelievably sensitive.

“Stannis,” she hissed, “people might hear.”

His lips quirked, forming the barest hint of a smirk for a second. Blink and you’d miss it.

The waiter arrived with the check, and Sansa had never been quite as relieved to walk out of a restaurant. She felt ridiculous about it as it was dark out, but she put on some oversized sunglasses while they made their way to the car. Their plan hinged on Sansa remaining Stannis’ mystery girl for a little longer.

Once they were at the house, Sansa took all her clothes off and put on a robe that belonged to Stannis. It was much too big for her, but it was very soft and it smelled like him. She wore it whenever she could get away with it. They ended up cuddled up on the couch nearest the fireplace, their bodies wrapped around each other in a wonderfully comfortable way. Stannis had used the time Sansa had spent slipping into something comfortable building a fire, but it had only just started to really get going by the time she joined him.

Sansa didn’t wait for Stannis to ask what sort of reward she wanted. She told him exactly what she was in the mood for, and though Stannis looked a little surprised for a moment he was quick to acquiesce to her request.

“You were so good today,” he murmured, “I was so pleased to know that you were acting perfectly normal and going about your day even though you knew I could activate that toy at any moment.”

“It was quite difficult, you know,” Sansa told him, fishing unabashedly for more praise. “You made me come during a _lecture._ ”

Stannis groaned and kissed her deeply, stroking the nape of her neck as he did.

“Perfect,” he said, “I know you were perfect. I saw how well you did at dinner.”

“And then I kept wondering if you would turn it on during my workshop, and _Jeyne was there._ ”

“Do you think she would have realised that anything was out of the ordinary?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“But you just pretended everything was normal?”

“Of course,” Sansa said, feeling rather proud of herself, “what else was I supposed to do?”

“Perfect,” he said again, peppering her neck and her face with kisses and petting her wherever he could reach.

He went on like that for a while, telling her how good she was, and how perfect. When the fire got too hot, Stannis removed his shirt and Sansa took the robe off for the most part and rested her head in Stannis’ lap the way she had first done on the train north. This time he was touching her, however, running his fingers through her hair and scratching her back lightly.

If she had been a cat she would have been purring as loudly as she could.

It had probably been over an hour when Stannis started to shift around, clearly uncomfortable due to the raging erection that was doing its best to stretch the material of his trousers all out of shape. Sansa _wanted_ to offer to do something with him to help him out, but she was so _comfortable_ and so _lazy._

“Are you dying?” she asked him, looking up at him and biting her lip.

“I’m fine,” Stannis said. He did not sound fine. His voice was husky and deep, and his eyes were almost black.

“I think you should take your trousers off.” Sansa still didn’t really feel like doing anything, but she imagined that he would be a bit more comfortable if he were naked. She sat up while he hurriedly did as she suggested, letting her robe fall all the way off to the floor while she was at it.

“What would you do about that if I weren’t here?” she asked, feeling curious and aroused at the idea of watching him touch himself.

“I probably wouldn’t have - er - _that_ if you weren’t here,” Stannis said, looking a little flustered for once. It gave her a little thrill to see it, just as it had thrilled her on the train, at Old Nan’s party and on their road trip. She liked seeing him a little unsure of himself almost as much as she liked it when he was confident and authoritative.

Or maybe it was just that she liked _him._ All versions of him.

“Would you… _you know?_ ” She noticed that he was staring at her mouth, looking as if he wanted to be the one biting into her lower lip.

“Maybe,” he said, glancing from her lips to her eyes for a moment, obviously wishing to gauge her reaction.

“Can I see?” She blushed as she asked the question, but her shyness didn’t stop her from doing her utmost to use her expression and her body language to convince him to say yes.

“You want me to… ?” Stannis looked taken aback by her request, but aroused at the same time.

She nodded and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down a few times.

He shifted around, perhaps stalling for time, and gave her several searching looks. He looked flushed.

Sansa did her best to look appropriately curious and imploring, fluttering her eyelashes a little.

After an eternity of staring and looking indecisive, Stannis slowly moved to make himself more comfortable on the sofa, closing his eyes and reaching with one hand for his cock. He hissed when he got a good grip on himself and immediately started to move.

“What are you thinking about?” Sansa whispered, feeling increasingly warm at the sight of him pleasuring himself.

“You,” he rasped, his breathing already becoming a little faster.

“What about me?”

He opened his eyes just a fraction. They reflected the firelight, making it appear as if they were glittering with lust. “I’m thinking about how beautiful you look,” he said, “and how much I enjoy touching you.”

Sansa blinked at him, feeling rather surprised at how romantic his thoughts were.

He closed his eyes again, but kept talking. “I’m thinking about how you had to keep silent as you came during that lecture today.” He groaned and his hand sped up considerably. “I’m thinking about how much you enjoyed the embarrassment of that situation, how wet you got...”

She could feel herself getting rather wet at his words, and couldn’t resist the urge to touch her nipples. Just a little.

It really was _incredibly_ erotic to watch Stannis get himself off, and it was surprisingly educational, too. She had often used her hands on him, but she hadn’t realised he would be okay with quite as much force as he was exerting now. He was pumping fast and hard, his hand almost a blur.

Sansa squirmed and let out a low moan. She was still a tiny bit sensitive from all the orgasms she had already had, but she was starting to feel like it didn’t matter. She was getting jealous of Stannis’ hand.

“I’m wet right now,” she whispered, trying to sound inviting.

Stannis’ eyes snapped open and his hand stopped moving. “Would you like me to -”

“Yes.”

He was on her in a flash, filling her completely, _and gods,_ his cock always felt so amazingly _good._

She cradled him with her thighs and he slapped his body against hers again and again, forceful and already frenzied due to the way he had been touching himself -- already sweaty and flushed.

The pleasure he was giving her was completely different from the pleasure the little vibrator had tormented her with, and she found herself clenching up and crying out more quickly than she would have believed scarce minutes earlier. It was a good thing, too, as Stannis followed soon after.

“Getting old on me?” she couldn’t help but tease.

“You’ve been such a good girl today,” Stannis warned, “it would be a shame if you ruined it by mouthing off.” There was an undercurrent of humour in his tone that Sansa liked.

“What would you do if I kept at it?” she asked, giggling and squirming underneath him. He was still buried inside her and pinning her down with his bulk.

“I’d be forced to punish you,” he told her, his voice solemn. He got off, sat up and looked down at her, appearing both fond and stern at the same time.

“You’d have to catch me first,” she joked, “old man.”

“I’d start running if I were you,” he said with a growl.

Sansa grinned and got up, forcing her shaky post-orgasmic legs to run as fast as she could, shrieking with delight when she heard Stannis give chase.

He caught her on the stairs, causing her to emit a very high-pitched squeal.

“Hush,” he told her, kissing her ruthlessly and then steering her towards the bedroom.

She got a light spanking for her trouble, and then Stannis got the first vibrator they had bought and parted her cheeks to give her another one of _those_ very embarrassing orgasms.

While she was right in the middle of coming, her face aflame and her thighs trembling, he asked a question.

“Say that you promise you’ll be a good girl for the rest of the night if you don’t want me to push the head of this toy up your arse.”

He was giving her a clear choice, and she knew she could ask him to stop at any time. He would not force this on her, but she _had_ indicated that she would be okay with a bit of penetration back there when she had decided to buy the fancy little butt plug, so it did not seem odd to her that he would give her an opportunity to experiment.

Her heart was beating harder than ever when she decided to moan instead of saying anything, and she tensed up and stopped breathing in anticipation of what he would do.

“Relax,” he ordered, rubbing the small of her back.

She started breathing again, and slowly relaxed as he continued to let the vibrator pleasure her. Her orgasm had passed for the most part, but she was still tingling and warm.

Stannis suddenly took the vibrator away for a second, and Sansa felt something cold and wet dripping between her buttocks. More lubricant. She forced herself to keep taking deep breaths and not tense up.

The head of the vibrator was no bigger than the widest part of the plug they had bought, and Sansa was surprised at how easily it slipped inside. The pressure of it felt a little strange, especially because of the vibrations, but it was not unpleasant. In fact -

“Oh, _gods!_ I’m - I’m - _ah!_ ”

She was coming again, and her face felt somehow even hotter than it had felt during her last orgasm. She was fairly certain she could actually feel her blood _pulsing_ in her cheeks.

“You like it, don’t you?” Stannis murmured, sounding both aroused and amused. “You like having your lovely arse invaded like this.”

Sansa moaned and clenched up, inadvertently forcing the toy out. It would probably have been pushed out completely if Stannis hadn’t been pushing it right back in. The movement made her cry out in pleasure again. The slippery friction had been surprisingly good. Stannis immediately understood that what she had liked, and he started to gently fuck her arse with the tip of the softly buzzing toy.

She could not believe how much she liked it. It was the most embarrassing moment of her life, and she _could not stop coming._

When Stannis gave her left buttock a light smack she thought she would pass out.

“Say that you’re sorry about calling me an old man,” he instructed, dark humour in his tone.

Sansa wasn’t sure she _was_ sorry. She was enjoying this ‘punishment’ a little too much.

Another smack.

She whimpered with pleasure.

“Either say that you’re sorry or admit that you love taking it up the arse.” He spanked her again to punctuate his words. “Or say both,” he added, sounding amused.

Sansa was relatively sure a blood vessel might burst if she tried to get the words: ‘I love taking it up the arse,’ out, so she opted for a meek apology instead.

“I’m sorry I teased you about being old,” Sansa moaned. It was surprisingly difficult to keep from drooling on her pillow. “You’re so fit,” she added, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to kiss up to him.

He pulled the vibrator out of her and turned it off. She heard him walk to the en suite and then she heard water running. Her face still felt fire-hot when he returned to put the toy away in its drawer, and her entire body felt limp and heavy.

“Are you asleep?” he asked, sitting down on the bed next to her and stroking her hair.

“Mmmm.”

“You should go and clean up,” he said, his voice gentle.

Later, when Sansa was clean and curled up with Stannis under the covers, she blurted out a question that had been bouncing around in her subconscious for a while, waiting for an opportunity to surface.

“Have you ever done this kind of stuff with other women?”

Sansa waited with bated breath for his answer, nervous that he might take the question the wrong way.

“What kind of ‘stuff’ do you mean?” he asked, not sounding particularly annoyed or offended.

“You know. Shop for sex toys and mess around with them. Explore the - um - unconventional.” Sansa was starting to think that it would take the whole night for her face to go back to its regular colour.

“Do you really want to know?” he asked seriously.

Sansa thought about it for a little while, prodding herself mentally and wondering whether she would get jealous if his answer turned out to be yes.

“Yes,” she said, feeling fairly confident that she was strong enough to handle the fact that Stannis had a past.

“I had an affair around the time of my divorce. I’m not proud of it, but it was with a very… enthusiastic woman. She liked experimenting.”

Sansa noticed that he didn’t explicitly state that the affair happened _after_ the divorce and felt a little surprised at him. He didn’t seem like the type to cheat.

“I - I see,” Sansa said, trying not to sound judgemental.

“When she started trying to tie me up and drip hot candle wax on my cock I put an end to it,” Stannis explained with a sigh, “I had no interest in getting my bits burnt.”

“O-oh. Okay.” She couldn’t stifle her giggles.

“Not the sanest woman I’ve ever met,” Stannis admitted.

Sansa kept giggling, and got louder when Stannis poked her side beneath her ribs in retaliation. It tickled!

They settled down after a little while, breathing a little harder than before, but otherwise quiet.

“Why do you ask?” he said at length.

“Just curious,” Sansa said, “you seem so… calm about all this. Experienced.”

Stannis seemed to think her words over for a moment before replying. “You excite me rather a lot, Sansa,” he murmured into her ear, his breath warm on her skin. “But I suppose I do have a few years of experience on you. Keeping calm under pressure is something I’m usually able to do.”

Sansa pressed herself closer and mumbled some affirming noise. What he had said made sense.

“Do you think I’m weird?” she whispered after a while, “for liking the stuff I like?” She was fairly certain he didn’t think that, but something vulnerable and needy inside of her wanted to hear him say it.

Stannis groaned the same way he sometimes did when he was very aroused or in the middle of fucking her silly. “Not in the _least,_ ” he said heatedly. “When I say things, I mean them. And haven’t I repeatedly told you that you’re perfect?”

Her heart sped up at his words, and she felt a little like she had just aced a test that the rest of class had failed.

“No one has ever turned me on the way you do,” she whispered in return, feeling almost too shy to get the words out, but wanting him to know.

He groaned again and rubbed himself against her, letting her feel his erection.

“Already?” she said, feeling surprised.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he said in response, sounding strained.

Sansa moaned and hurried to comply. She had a feeling she’d be walking a little funny tomorrow, and when she felt Stannis’ cock slip inside, stretching her and making her wet inner walls clench around him, she thought to herself that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to Tommy for giving me certain ideas. ;)


	14. Dirty Deals

_Stannis Baratheon - Philanthropist and Romantic?_

_Many of our readers will be familiar with the Baratheon brothers: staples of the King’s Landing community, businessmen and moguls. The eldest, Robert Baratheon, is possibly the best known of the three, but middle brother Stannis should be familiar to those of our readers who regularly scour the business section. Today Stannis has agreed to give a little interview about his upcoming fundraiser and the new lady in his life._

_So, Mr. Baratheon, what made you decide to throw a fundraiser for the Night’s Watch and the Wall?_

_I received a request for a loan from the Commander of the Night’s Watch. Apparently they are unable to do their sworn duty to the realm with the funds they have been allotted by the government. I went to visit the Wall myself and confirmed with my own eyes that something needs to be done. If they do not receive the monetary help they need soon, the Wall will crumble._

_That sounds serious! Let’s hope the fundraiser is a success. But what is this I hear about a new lady in your life? The gossip blogs have been posting some very intriguing pictures lately. Care to comment on that?_

_I have started to see someone, yes._

_So mysterious! What’s the young lady’s name?_

_She will be at my side at the fundraiser. I will introduce her to those who will be in attendance. Until then I hope you and your colleagues will respect our privacy. Our relationship is still quite new._

_Oh, but you must reveal a little more than that. How did you meet? Are you in love? Do you intend to get married again after all these years of being a bachelor?_

_I’m afraid it’s too early to say._

_Well, you certainly look like a man in love. Thank you for the interview, and good luck with your fundraiser._

Sansa looked up from her tablet, feeling a bit self conscious about the fact that she was reading the interview for the hundredth time. It had been published several days ago, but she had read it every day since. The reporter who had interviewed Stannis probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but her words about how Stannis looked like a man in love kept Sansa coming back for more. She couldn’t get enough of reading them.

Was Stannis in love with her? Was it possible after such a short relationship?

How did she feel about him? Was _she_ in love?

Sansa didn’t know. All she knew was that her stomach filled with butterflies whenever she read the interview.

“I know your secret,” a familiar voice said, coming from somewhere behind Sansa. She couldn’t quite place it, however, and now that her heart was in her throat and her ears were buzzing it was hard to think where she might have heard it.

Had someone figured out that she was Stannis’ mystery woman?

Sansa put her tablet away and turned around, anxious to see who had spoken. She was on campus, so it could be any number of people.

“Professor Baelish?” she said, feeling a little incredulous.

“You’re the girl who has been running all over town with Stannis Baratheon, aren’t you?” he said, sounding pleasant and friendly. He always seemed so _likable._ Sansa remembered that a lot of the girls who had taken the same Calculus class as she had had nursed crushes on the distinguished-looking, gentleman. She hadn’t had a crush, but she _had_ used her looks to help her pass the course. She still felt guilty about it.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” Baelish said, looking amused.

“I - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sansa stammered, her blush probably giving her lie away.

“Well, I suppose you haven’t been spotted with him for the past week. Smart of you. After the interview that came out the other day everyone and their mother has been trying to catch you two together.”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” Sansa repeated, managing to sound much more sure of herself this time. She couldn’t let him ruin everything.

“Drop the act,” Baelish said, still looking amused, “I know it’s you. And like I said, I do not intend to expose you.”

Sansa bit her lip and wondered how she should react.

“Did you know I own the Mockingbird?” Baelish asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sansa pressed her lips together tightly and tried not to betray her surprise. The Mockingbird was a very popular gossip site, known for almost always being first to break the news of a scandal. Sansa had also heard of a club called the Mockingbird, but she didn’t know if the two were connected.

“I have no particular love for Cersei Lannister, and I know you’re trying to tempt people to go to your event rather than to her party, so I won’t try to break the news of your identity to the world before the fundraiser. _However,_ I would very much like a favour in exchange for my… generosity.”

Sansa swallowed and narrowed her eyes, refusing to say anything to confirm or deny his assumptions. What sort of favour would he want? Would he ask her to go to dinner with him again? Would he want a sexual favour? Her stomach tied itself up into knots and she had to focus very hard on breathing normally.

“I’d very much like to be the first to have an… intimate picture of the two of you together. Both of you would need to be clearly visible, and the resolution ought to be high. The more risqué the picture is, the better,” Baelish said, giving her a rakish wink. “Just promise to send me such a picture on the night of the fundraiser and I will hold my peace.”

Sansa blinked. What if she promised him a picture and failed to deliver? What would he be able to do about it? It would be too late to reveal her secret by the time the fundraiser rolled around. She and Stannis would already have revealed it at the event.

“Ah, I can see what you’re thinking. If you fail to send me a picture, I will have my best paparazzo hound you until he gets the most embarrassing pictures possible. I will plaster them all over the Internet and I will never take them down.”

She swallowed and took a deep breath. “I’m not admitting to anything, but could you give me a day to consider your offer?”

Baelish smirked and inclined his head. “Of course. You know where to find me.”

***

Stannis stared at Sansa in disbelief. They were sitting on the sofa in front of the unlit fireplace in his house, nursing cups of tea after having eaten a delicious dinner they had prepared together. It had been a very comfortable - dare he say cosy - moment before she had said what she had just said.

“You want to do what?” he asked, wondering if he had just hallucinated.

“Take an intimate picture for the Mockingbird,” Sansa repeated, “so Professor Baelish doesn’t leak that fact that I’m your mystery girlfriend before the fundraiser. I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow and give him an answer, so I need to know if you’re okay with it.” She went on to explain how Baelish had threatened to send a paparazzo to chase after them if they refused to send him the picture he wanted.

“Let him try it,” Stannis hissed, narrowing his eyes, “I’ll have a restraining order issued.”

“I think there’s more than one paparazzo in the city. I’m not sure a judge would let you get a restraining order for them all,” Sansa pointed out.

Stannis made an irritated sound and said nothing. She was right, unfortunately.

“This could actually be a good thing,” Sansa said, her eyes bright, “he didn’t say it _had_ to be a risqué picture, just that it was preferable. I think he’d be happy with a picture where we were just kissing or something. And we could make sure it was flattering and that it served our interests.”

Stannis didn’t like it. He hated being coerced, and he hated being vulnerable to such juvenile manipulations.

“Anyway, it might be fun to take some kissing pictures,” Sansa said, making her voice flirtatious.

It might be fun to take some _naked_ pictures of her, too, but that didn’t make it a good idea.

“Perhaps,” he said, giving her a _look_. “And perhaps you should have handled the conversation with Baelish more carefully. He had no proof that you were my girlfriend until you all but admitted it.”

Sansa frowned and seemed a little hurt. “He recognised me in the pictures,” she said. “I could tell he wasn’t just guessing.”

“Nonetheless, I think you should apologise for being careless and accept your punishment,” he said, deepening his voice and putting his cup of tea away.

Sansa’s eyes widened and she started to blush, but she nodded, agreeing to play. The hurt look on her face had disappeared as soon as she had realised that it was just a game.

“I - I’m sorry I was careless,” she whispered, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “Are you going to spank me?” Her eyes were smiling even though she was biting her lower lip and preventing herself from smiling outright.

“I’m afraid so,” he said, “and I think it’s time we tried that toy you wanted to get,” he added, hardening rapidly at the thought of how much Sansa would enjoy it. He still couldn’t think about how ecstatic she had sounded when he had pushed the head of the vibrator up her arse without getting painfully aroused. Her embarrassment and her pleasure had just been _too delicious._

“Oh,” she said, sounding a bit surprised. Her blush deepened. “Already?”

“Yes.”

He watched her take a deep steadying breath and swallow a few times.

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding in agreement.

Once they were in his bedroom he stopped her before she managed to start getting undressed. He planned to start her off with a spanking as he knew it would make her all weak in the knees, but instead of letting her get naked and lie across his lap in bed, he wanted to spank her standing up with most of her clothes still on. He wanted her to face the mirror on his closet door as he did it, and watch herself get spanked.

She’d love it.

“Stand in front of the mirror,” he directed her, his voice already husky with arousal, “undo your jeans and push them down to your knees. Panties, too.”

Sansa’s face was completely red, but her pupils were already blown wide and her chest was heaving. She was wearing a form-fitting sweater with a V-neck, and he could see a little bit of cleavage. He’d see more once he made her bend over.

He took his place behind her and kissed her neck before bringing his lips to her ear. “Bend forward and touch your knees.”

He wasn’t worried that she would overbalance since she was barefoot. But perhaps he’d make her do this again sometime in heels…

Sansa did as he asked, but she also used the opportunity to stop looking at herself in the mirror in favour of looking at the floor.

“Look up,” he told her sternly.

She looked into the mirror and their eyes met in the reflection. Her lips parted and he heard her take a shuddering breath. He put his hand between her exposed thighs and touched her lightly, just to feel how wet she was. She was already very damp. She moaned and tried to push herself against his hand, but he pulled away.

“Ah-ah,” he said, “this is your punishment,” he reminded her, smirking slightly. Maybe he’d finger her later, if that’s what she wanted.

“Please,” she said, moaning prettily.

“Please what?”

If she hadn’t been crimson already she would be now. “Please spank me,” she begged.

“Because… ?”

“Because I was naughty and I need to be disciplined,” she moaned, wiggling her arse a little.

“Indeed,” he said, nodding seriously. He started to smack her beautifully rounded cheeks, maintaining eye contact with her in the mirror and watching her bite her lip and look utterly embarrassed and _horny_. It really was the most arousing sight: the way she got off due to these little games.

He couldn’t resist pausing every now and then to check how wet she was, groaning a little every time he did it because somehow she just kept getting _wetter._

“Have you had enough?” he asked after a while, starting to feel like he really needed to take his trousers off soon.

“I think I’ve learnt my lesson,” Sansa said, her voice breathless and her eyes sparkling in the mirror.

“I don’t think you have. You’re not forgetting about the second part of your punishment, are you?” he asked, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from rubbing himself through his clothes. “Strip,” he added.

He busied himself with finding the unopened box that contained the little plug, opening it, reading the instructions, and finding the lubricant while she was getting undressed. His heart was beating faster than usual, and he felt a bit nervous about this. It had been Sansa’s choice to buy the toy, and she had acquiesced to trying it out, but he couldn’t help but worry that she might not like it. Maybe this would be different from the vibrator?

Stannis didn’t comment when Sansa shyly told him that she wanted to clean up a bit before they got started, and was actually rather relieved that he would have a few minutes alone. He really needed to touch himself.

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him when she returned to find him naked on the bed, palming his cock with one hand and holding the toy in the other.

He gave her a quelling look and took his hand away from his groin. “Lie down on your front and spread your thighs,” he instructed, moving to the side of the bed to make room for her.

She did as he asked, but she was tense.

“Relax,” he said, “this is not meant to hurt you.” It was only meant to pleasure her and embarrass her some more.

Her heard her blow out a long breath and saw as her muscles unclenched a little.

Stannis picked up the lubricant and left the toy lying on the bed while he parted her buttocks and spread a generous about of the slippery liquid around. Then he picked the toy back up and coated it very generously as well.

“Relax,” he repeated, bringing the toy to her arse and pressing it against the tight entrance. The head of the toy was much smaller than the head of the vibrator, and it was easy to push it inside due to all the lubricant. Sansa inhaled sharply at the sensation but did not tense up. He waited for her to make a noise of complaint or ask him to stop, but she didn’t. Instead she wriggled her arse a little and breathed out a little sigh.

“There you go,” he said soothingly, “you love having your arse invaded. You want to be all plugged up.” He stated these things as fact, and was pleased when she did not contradict him. His worries about the possibility of hurting her faded away. She clearly liked this.

She moaned and let him continue to slowly slide the plug home, even though it widened more and more until it was buried snug inside with just the flared base sticking out and preventing the plug from getting swallowed up. The base was decorated with a clear, smooth ball, and it put him vaguely in mind of a bunny’s tail, though it was smaller.

“You’re wishing it was bigger, aren’t you? Imagining what it would feel like if it was as big as my cock…” he whispered hoarsely, his cock jumping as he spoke.

Sansa whimpered out a small word that sounded rather wonderfully like a yes.

“Do you want me to fuck you now? Do you want to know what it’s like to be filled both ways?”

Sansa whimpered some more and raised her arse in the air, getting on her knees and elbows.

“No,” Stannis said, “I’m not going to make it that easy. This is your punishment after all, so you’re going to have to do _all_ the work.” He took a breath and plunged on. “You’re going to ride me, but you’re going to face away from me so that I can watch your plugged arse bouncing up and down.”

He heard her suck in a very loud breath at that, and when she exhaled she whined his name a little pathetically.

“I’m waiting,” he said, knowing full well that she was not in any pain. In her current position he could see how wet she was, and he knew what she sounded like when she was turned on. She was very, _very_ turned on at the moment. And he was about to explode with need.

It took her a little while to get into the position that he wanted, and he was able to be patient largely because of how erotic it was to watch her move so gingerly. She was clearly trying to get used to the way it felt to move around with a foreign object up her arse, and the look of embarrassment on her face was just _perfect._

He held his cock steady for her when she was finally ready to start sinking down on him, her feet planted on the bed on either side of him in an undignified sort of squat.

She inhaled sharply as soon as the head of his cock was inside, and he gasped in time with her, a little overwhelmed by the sopping wet heat of her. She sank down the rest of the way with a loud moan, and he rather wanted to moan, too. It felt absolutely decadent to have her take him in this way, knowing that the plug was there, _seeing_ the clear ball peek out from between her spread cheeks.

“Fuck yourself on my cock,” he said, already panting due to the glorious sensation of being inside of her and the anticipation of watching her do as she was told.

Sansa started to move. She went slowly, letting out slightly whiny moans of pleasure as the muscles of her thighs flexed with the effort of moving herself up and down.

“Tell me how it feels,” he said, his voice raw.

“So full,” she gasped out, “ _gods!_ ”

“Good,” he said, “you like the double penetration, don’t you?”

“Mmhm,” she moaned, starting to move a little faster.

He enjoyed the view and the wonderful squeeze of her inner muscles for a little while.

“Are you going to be thinking about this when you go to Professor Baelish tomorrow?” he asked, an idea taking form in some dirty corner of his mind.

She made a slightly choked, rather unattractive sound, “probably, now that you’ve asked me that,” she said, breathless and strained.

He put his hands on her waist and guided her into moving much faster. He wanted her to be bouncing on his cock while he said what he was about to say.

“You are going to be thinking about this,” he confirmed, breathing heavily, “because you’re going to wear the plug for that meeting.” He panted and listened to Sansa make a small squeak of surprise, but he didn’t give her time to say anything. “You’re going to wear it as a reminder that you’re _mine_ and as a reminder not to not make any more promises to him. He’ll get the one picture, and it won’t depict anything more risqué than kissing. Understood?”

“Stannis!” She sounded rather like she was on the verge of an orgasm.

“Understood?” he repeated, wanting her to agree to his orders.

“ _Yes!_ ” she sobbed, crying out her answer as she clenched up around his cock and came so forcefully that he had no choice but to follow her over the edge.

As Stannis came down from the high of his orgasm he realised that what he had just done had been better than any fantasy he had ever had, and that he wanted to keep Sansa in his life for as long as he possibly, _humanly_ could.

She was the most wonderful woman he had ever met.

***

Sansa couldn’t believe she was doing this. She’d die of embarrassment if anyone had seen the toy she had been carrying around in her bag for the better part of the day, and she would _really_ die of embarrassment if anyone were to figure out what she was doing in the stall she was currently in. She could hear two girls talking by the sinks, fixing their makeup and chatting about their classes. Meanwhile, she was putting lube on a butt plug and preparing to put it inside.

She was about to go talk to Professor Baelish, and she had _promised_ Stannis that she would wear the plug for the meeting.

It had surprised her how good it had felt when Stannis had first put it inside her. She had thought it would feel more uncomfortable. But it was small, Stannis had worked it in slowly and used plenty of lubricant, and the shape of it was designed to cause pleasure rather than pain. It had felt mortifyingly good. 

If she were to be completely honest with herself, she actually felt a little excited about trying it out by herself.

And as long as she was being honest… she felt ridiculously turned on by the fact that she had to wear the thing while she talked to Professor Baelish. He would have no idea that she would be all plugged up and trying to keep from turning bright red because _she_ knew. And it would be even harder for her to keep from blushing because she would probably be unable to stop thinking about how it had felt when Stannis had made her ride his cock while the plug had been firmly lodged up her arse.

Gods, it had felt amazing.

Sansa took a deep breath and started to push the plug inside. She made sure to relax and do it slowly, and found that it was fairly easy to get her body to accept the invading object. The pressure of it felt both strange and pleasurable, and she kind of liked the way the clear ball on the base felt nestled between her cheeks once the thing was fully in. The ball would probably make it uncomfortable to sit on a chair, though.

She pulled her panties up and let made sure her skirt was covering everything before she packed up the lube and closed her bag. She flushed before she left the stall, even though there was nothing to flush. She didn’t want to draw any attention to herself.

Thankfully the girls who had been in there before had gone, so perhaps she needn’t have bothered.

Walking, even just the short distance over to the sinks, felt very odd. She had to move very carefully so that it wouldn’t make her uncomfortable, and her reflection told her that she was literally walking like she had a stick up her arse.

She washed her hands very carefully and looked at herself in the mirror above the line of sinks. She looked very pink in the face.

 _You can do this,_ she told herself, _just a quick conversation with Professor Baelish and then you can come back here and take it out._

Hopefully the professor wouldn’t offer her a seat.

She had chosen the ladies’ room that was closest to the office she was planning to visit, but the walk over there still seemed incredibly long. She felt her face heat up every time someone walked by, feeling convinced that they would notice how strangely she was walking and _know._ But no one gave her a second glance, and after a minute she got used to the pressure of the toy and figured out that she actually could walk pretty normally.

Sansa took several deep breaths outside Professor Baelish’s office door, willing herself to stop blushing, before she knocked.

“Come in,” Baelish called out from inside.

Sansa let herself in and took a few tentative steps inside.

“Ah, Sansa, close the door, will you?”

Feeling a little like she was cutting off her avenue of escape, she did as he asked.

“Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing politely at the pair of visitor’s chairs that stood in front of his desk.

“I’d prefer to stand,” Sansa said, feeling her face go up in flames. She couldn’t sit down. She _couldn’t._

“As you wish,” Baelish said with a shrug. “Have you made your decision?”

“You’ll get your picture, but it will be fully clothed kissing. Nothing more intimate than that,” she said, her voice remarkably steady despite the fact that her mind was being flooded with memories of the previous evening. _Gods,_ the sensation of sinking down on Stannis’ big cock with her arse plugged had made her want to scream. It was mortifying to enjoy such a dirty thing, to get off on something she had always thought no proper girl would like. It had been like she had been in some sort of… _porn film._

“That’s disappointing, but I suppose that will do,” Baelish said with a delicate shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll go easy on you since I did know your mother when we were children.”

Sansa blinked at him, feeling intrigued. “Really? She never said.” Her mother had must have heard Sansa complain about her mandatory Calculus class a hundred times, and she was sure she had mentioned Professor Baelish by name at least dozens of times. Her mother had never acted as if the name meant anything to her.

“Well, it was a long time ago.”

Was she imagining things or did Baelish look a little hurt?

“Thank you,” Sansa said, wondering if she shouldn’t just leave. But her curiosity was piqued, and the plug didn’t really bother her while she just stood still like this. She could barely even feel it. And what she did feel was actually more pleasant than uncomfortable. “What was she like? When she was little?”

Sansa had sometimes asked Aunt Lysa about it, but she never really got very satisfying answers from her slightly crazy aunt. Asking her mother directly usually yielded unsatisfying results, too.

“She was a force of nature, a breath of fresh air, and an all around lovely girl. I was quite in love with her,” Baelish said, smiling in a way that bothered Sansa. It was as if he was only smiling with the bottom half of his face; the skin around his eyes didn’t crinkle like it should.

“How old were you?” Sansa asked, wondering at what point a person was old enough to fall in love.

“I was sixteen when we lost touch,” he said.

Sansa shifted from one foot to the other and remembered that she really was in no fit state to have a heart to heart with her old Calculus professor about her mother. It might not be too physically uncomfortable, but it was still _awkward._

“Um, okay. I have to go.” She turned on her heel and opened the door, feeling a silly sort of relief when she found that the door was unlocked. Of course it was unlocked. She hadn’t locked it.

“Remember to send the picture. I’ll want it before midnight on Saturday.” Saturday was the night of the fundraiser, but Sansa knew it would be easy enough to take the picture at any point before then and simply hit send after the big reveal.

“Of course,” she said, nodding once. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and in that moment, even though it was ridiculous and impossible, Sansa felt convinced that he knew everything about how she had been thinking about sex a few minutes ago, how she was currently experiencing pleasure due to the toy Stannis had told her to wear for this meeting, and _everything_ about her deepest, darkest, most secret desires.

She just barely managed to keep from making some sort of embarrassing squeak, and hurried from his office.

***

Stannis was very pleased with how she had done. He made her tell him everything, and seemed to enjoy it when she admitted that she had kind of liked putting the plug in on her own.

“And he agreed that a picture of us kissing would be enough?” he asked, stroking her hair lazily.

“Yes, we just have to send it before midnight on Saturday,” Sansa told him, loving the way they were cuddled up on his bed. His touch felt wonderful, and being pressed against his warm body was relaxing and _safe._

“When do you want to take the picture?” he murmured, threading his fingers through her hair and then scratching the nape of her neck lightly.

“I thought it might be nice to take it just before we head for the fundraiser. We’ll be all dressed up and looking our best.” If Sansa’s picture was going to be plastered all over the Internet she wanted to look good in it. “Why? Do you want to practise?” she added, rising up so she could look at him and give him a grin.

“Practise kissing?” he asked, pulling her back down and more on top of him. She ended up straddling him rather pleasantly. “I think we’re already quite adept,” he said, his voice husky.

She let him reel her in for a kiss, and couldn’t resist writhing and wriggling on top of him, wondering if she could get his body to respond to hers. She didn’t really expect him to get hard since they’d been having sex less than twenty minutes ago, but it never hurt to let him know that she was ready for more if he fancied another go.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered, sounding half exasperated and half amused.

“I hope not,” Sansa said, feeling rather amused herself, “you won’t be of any use to me if you’re dead.”

“I knew it,” Stannis said, shaking his head, “you only want me for my body.” His delivery was completely dry and serious, and it made Sansa start to shake with laughter.

To her delight she felt him hardening a little, probably in response to her movements. 

They exchanged very heated glances.

“I think you should hold onto the headboard and not let go unless I ask you to,” Sansa said after a little while, biting her lip and giving him a hopeful look. She had been wanting to try being the one in charge, but she didn’t know whether he’d enjoy it. She wasn’t even sure if _she_ would enjoy it.

Stannis raised an eyebrow, but did as she asked.

Her heart sped up at the sight, and she started to rub herself slowly and deliberately against his length, getting him all wet. She moved the tangled bed covers out of the way so that she could see all of him, and enjoyed the sight of his abdominal muscles tensing and relaxing in turn.

“I do quite like your body,” Sansa said, fluttering her eyelashes at Stannis. She was still rubbing herself all over his rapidly hardening cock without letting him inside, and now she decided to start stroking his chest, letting her fingers trail feather lightly down towards his navel.

“Sansa,” he said, giving her a slightly impatient look. He clearly wanted to be inside her.

She leant forward and pressed herself against his front, kissing his lips and taking her time about exploring his willing mouth. When she rose back up his eyes were completely black. He looked at her face for a moment, but soon his eyes were drawn to her breasts, and she saw his hands twitch. He clearly wanted to fondle her.

She kept rubbing herself against his cock - it really felt quite lovely for her, she could enjoy doing this for _ages_ \- and moved her hands to touch her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers and squeezing the soft flesh gently. Stannis watched her hands greedily, and his hands clutched the headboard more tightly.

“Do you want to touch me?” she asked, moving her hips in a slightly circular motion and grinding against him in a way that might eventually be enough to get her off.

“Yes,” he bit out, his eyes flashing.

“Do you want me to put your cock inside me?” She felt herself blush a little at the brazen words, but maintained eye contact with him and tried not to let her embarrassment get a hold of her.

“ _Yes,_ ” he repeated, more emphatically.

“Hmm, I think you should lick me first,” Sansa said, feeling a little wicked. 

Stannis clenched his jaw and blew out a breath through his nose, but didn’t object. His eyes were glittering with desire.

She moved until her thighs were on either side of his face, and gave him permission to hold onto her thighs instead of the headboard. She lowered herself down until she was practically sitting on his mouth, and moaned when his tongue immediately went to work.

He really had a _very_ talented tongue, and she loved it when he put it inside her and licked her there. She loved it _almost_ as much as when he sucked on certain very sensitive parts and then licked the same spot rapidly right after.

Stannis had her coming after an embarrassingly short while, and usually she might decided that it was enough, but she was _really_ enjoying this, and she kind of wanted him to keep going.

“Mm, more,” she moaned, rubbing herself against his mouth. His stubble was a little rough, but she didn’t care. This felt _so good._

He licked her sloppily with the flat of his tongue for a while, letting her recover from her orgasm and start to build towards a new one. She squealed when he suddenly started fucking her with his tongue again, sticking it inside and retracting it in rapid succession before surprising her by switching very quickly to sucking the way he had done before.

“Oh, _gods!_ ” she cried out, unable to resist grinding down a bit. How was it possible for her to be coming again?

She made him do it one more time before she moved off him, feeling shaky and thoroughly satisfied. Stannis had obediently moved his hands back to the headboard, though he wiped his face first. He was looking at her with raw lust, and she squirmed a little at the thought of how hard she was about to be fucked.

“Do you still want to get inside me?” she asked, breathless and slurring her words a tiny bit.

“Yes.” His voice was very hoarse and very full of need.

“Okay,” she whispered, “you can take me any way you want.”

He had her legs spread and up in the air in less than two seconds, already pushing his cock inside her drenched passage and groaning with pleasure. He didn’t bother with going slowly or letting her get used to him. She didn’t need it, and he clearly had no patience for it. He just started pounding himself into her and creating obscenely loud smacking noises.

“You -” he gasped, “are an insatiable _minx._ ” He kept fucking her, filling her again and again and making her cry out incoherently with each stroke. “I’m getting the vibrator after we’re done,” he added, panting into her ear, “and I’m going to make you keep coming until you beg me to stop.”

Sansa clenched up around his cock, hopelessly turned on by the way he was ramming himself inside her and by what he was saying.

“And then I’m going to switch to using the vibrator on your arse,” he continued, panting even harder, “and I’ll make you come _that_ way until you can’t even make coherent words anymore.”

She started to sob with pleasure, and tried to grab onto the pillows or the bedcovers, needing to anchor herself.

“Will you -” He grunted with the effort of speeding up to fuck her even harder. “Will you like that?”

Sansa’s orgasm hit her like the train they had met on, and she let out a high-pitched wail.

She was completely hoarse by the time he finished doing everything he had promised to do to her, and needed his support to get to the en suite to clean up because her legs had turned into wobbly jelly. This seemed to amuse him, though he didn’t say anything to make fun of her.

“How many?” he asked her once they had settled in to go to sleep.

She moaned and wished she had something cool and soft to press between her thighs. She was still _throbbing_ due to the paces he had put her through. “Too many. Lost count,” she rasped, her cheeks burning. Anyway, sometimes it was hard to tell where one orgasm ended and another began.

“Well,” he sighed, sounding darkly amused, “that will make it difficult for you to return the favour.”

She moaned and felt herself get a little wet again despite herself. How many blowjobs was he about to demand?

“I think you’ll have to suck me once a day for a fortnight,” he said, his voice an octave deeper than normally.

“What if I miss a day?” she asked, her voice still very hoarse.

“Then you simply have to make up for it the day after,” Stannis said, “and on all the days after that.”

Sansa moaned and felt the discomfort that came with being very aroused despite being too sensitive and raw to even _think_ about trying to do anything about it.

“Okay,” she said. “Starting tomorrow?” She was much too tired to give him a blowjob now.

“Yes,” he said, kissing her gently.

“Okay,” she repeated, stifling a yawn. “Good night.”

Stannis made a soft sort of sound in the back of his throat which she understood to mean that he wished her a good night, too. She closed her eyes and was half asleep before she managed to take one deep breath.

Somehow she was still just about conscious enough to hear Stannis a few minutes later, when he kissed her again and whispered something that made the butterflies in her stomach start fluttering and swooping madly.

“Good night, love.”


	15. Gossip, Drama and Dancing

It was finally Saturday, and Sansa woke up feeling very excited and nervous. Would the rich and famous of Westeros choose to come to Stannis’ fundraiser and snub Cersei? Or would the fundraiser be a total flop?

More importantly, would Stannis tell her that he loved her while she wasn’t half asleep any time soon? Her stomach still filled with butterflies whenever she remembered his whispered words. _Good night, love._ That had to mean he loved her, didn’t it? She was almost sure she loved him in return, but she wanted him to say the words first.

Sansa sighed and turned to lie on her side. She tried to push her thoughts of love away in favour of pondering a few things that were a bit less romantic and a bit more practical. Like how would she find the time to give Stannis his blowjob? Her schedule for the day was _hectic._ It had been four days since Stannis had made her promise to go down on him once a day for two weeks, and she was determined to keep her word. If she skipped today it would mean _two_ blowjobs a day for the next ten days, and as much as she loved going down on Stannis, she rather liked it when he used what remained of his energy to get hard again and have sex with her after. (Going down on him always got her so _wet._ ) She wasn’t sure how often he would be in the mood to get it up after two blowjobs to oblige her. Of course, it might be possible to spread the blowjobs out… one blowjob and a bit of sex in the morning, and then one blowjob and some more sex in the evening…

Sansa shifted to lie on her back, squirmed around and wished she had time to get her little vibrator out and release some tension. But she needed to get breakfast and head to the gym. After that she had an appointment with her waxer who would be removing pretty much every single hair that grew below her neck, as well as shaping and adding colour to her eyebrows. She _might_ have time for a quick lunch once she was done with her waxer and then she’d have to rush on over to a very fancy salon to have her hair and her nails done. After all that she was supposed to go to Stannis’ house where she would get dressed and have her makeup done by an actual makeup artist. (Sansa was very excited about that.) She and Stannis would then leave the house together to go to the fundraiser.

She bit her lip. Maybe she could skip the gym?

“Sansa?” Jeyne called through the door of Sansa’s bedroom, “are you up?”

Sansa groaned and pressed her thighs together tightly. “Yeah,” she called out in return.

“Are we going to the gym or what?”

With a sigh Sansa sat up. “Yeah, I’m coming.” _Not coming in the fun way, unfortunately._

***

By the time Sansa arrived at Stannis’ house she felt a lot less aroused than she had felt when she had been lying in bed and trying to figure out when she’d have time to give Stannis a blowjob. She always felt a bit tender for a few hours after getting her intimate place waxed and it was hard to think about Stannis doing anything sexy to her without wincing.

“You’re late,” Stannis said as soon as he let her through the front door, sounding tense.

“I’m sorry, I thought you said the makeup artist wouldn’t be here until four?” She could have sworn that was what he had said…

“Yes, but the stylist has been here for ten minutes already.”

“Stylist?”

“Yes, she’s brought a selection of dresses for you to choose from.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open.”Seriously?” she exclaimed, staring at Stannis in thrilled disbelief. She had brought her white Oberyn Martell with her, expecting to wear that, but this was so much more exciting. A real stylist!

“Yes, she’s in the living room,” Stannis said, obviously trying to get her to hurry up.

She started to walk towards the living room, smiling brightly at Stannis and feeling rather delightfully spoiled. “What do you think of my hair?” she asked, flipping her sleek ponytail over one shoulder.

“Er, very pretty?” Stannis was looking distracted and frazzled, so Sansa decided to give him a break. But she hoped he would manage to give her a proper compliment once she was all dressed up and ready with her finished look.

Stannis introduced her to the stylist, a very friendly young woman named Lisa with a wide smile and ginger hair, and excused himself almost immediately after. Apparently he needed to talk to Davos about some emergency or other.

“It’ll be a pleasure you dress you,” Lisa said, still beaming, “although you’re making my job a little too easy. You’d probably look great in a burlap sack!”

Sansa laughed and shook her head. “I hope I’ll get to wear something nicer than a burlap sack tonight, though.”

“But of course,” Lisa said with a wink. She led Sansa over to the gowns she had brought, and they spent several minutes examining them.

Sansa ended up choosing a floor length silver lamé gown, form-fitting and slinky, with a scandalously plunging neckline. The stilettos that came with it had heels that were sharp enough to kill and a blood-red sole, and Sansa felt rather like a film star once she had the whole outfit on.

“Good choice,” Lisa said approvingly, “sexy and chic.”

“Thanks,” Sansa said, feeling flattered even though Lisa would probably not have brought any dresses that she didn’t actually approve of.

“You sure your guy will be able to last the night without tearing it off?” Lisa asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sansa didn’t know whether to duck her head and look at the floor or smile widely. She wouldn’t mind it if her dress gave Stannis a bit of a hard time. Maybe if she got him suitably worked up he would tell her how he felt about her? Whispering things in her ear when he thought she was sleeping did not count. She wanted him to tell her _properly._

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she said, trying to sound airy and unconcerned.

“He’ll be dragging you home before midnight, mark my words.” Lisa was laughing as she put the dresses Sansa had elected not to wear away.

Of course, Stannis chose that moment to return to the living room.

“Who will be dragging whom?” he asked, looking mildly curious.

Both Sansa and Lisa burst into nervous giggles.

“No one,” Sansa managed to say after getting herself under control.

Stannis raised an eyebrow and looked Sansa over with heat in his eyes, obviously approving of her dress. He didn’t say a single word, and yet Sansa’s heart was beating frantically and her panties - black lace of course - were already starting to feel damp.

Sansa surreptitiously pressed her thighs together and wished Lisa would leave soon. She didn’t care that she was sensitive due to her wax treatment. She didn’t care that she wasn’t allowed to mess up her carefully constructed hairstyle. All she cared about was finding out what Stannis would do if they were alone. She was fairly sure she would enjoy every minute of it.

“Well, I think my work here is done.” Lisa was looking between Sansa and Stannis with amusement.

“Thank you,” Sansa said, unable to tear her eyes away from Stannis’ smouldering gaze.

Lisa left soon thereafter, and Sansa barely had time to blink before Stannis descended on her, kissing her passionately and wrapping her securely in his arms. She wound her arms around his neck in return, stroking the back of his head and encouraging him to kiss her harder. But she and Stannis were only alone for about a minute before there was a knock on the door. The makeup artist had most likely arrived. They sprang apart as if burnt, and Sansa hoped her skin didn’t look too red around her mouth. Stannis had yet to shave.

He went to get the door since he was not wearing gala clothes, and Sansa nervously tried to smooth down the skirt of her gown. (It didn’t really need any smoothing.)

“I’ll - er - leave you to it,” Stannis said, looking a bit intimidated by the large case the makeup artist had brought.

The artist took one look at her dress and her hair and said, “I know just what to do with you!”

Sansa was quite aware that great art could not be rushed, so she was patient while the makeup artist - Sofia - painted her face and enhanced her features.

Stannis was not as patient.

The fundraiser would start off as a dinner, and Stannis was very concerned that they should be on time. Half an hour before the town car was due to pick them up, he started to ask whether they were done yet, repeating himself every other minute and shouting his questions at them from the foyer for some reason, making Sansa jump a little each time. Thankfully Sofia had already finished putting the eyeliner on at that point and was mostly taking care of a few finishing touches, otherwise Sansa might have ended up with some very squiggly lines on her face.

“He’s a bit on edge, isn’t he?” Sofia said, looking fairly amused.

“This is a big night for both of us.” Sansa smiled a little nervously. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“Hopefully you’ll both be fine.” Sofia brought a tissue to Sansa’s lips and had her blot the lipstick she had just finished applying. “And if you want to try to relax Mr. Uptight, this lipstick is blowjob proof,” Sofia added with a wink.

Sansa blushed, but couldn’t help but giggle. Sofia’s sense of humour was a lot like Jeyne’s.

When Sofia pronounced her ready to go, Sansa ran into trouble. She could not seem to be able to look away from her reflection. 

She looked _good._

Sofia had really leaned into the old-fashioned film star vibe that Sansa’s chosen dress evoked, and the end result was really quite arresting. The sleek, modern ponytail kept her from appearing too dated, and Sansa really couldn’t be more pleased with her overall look.

“Thank you,” Sansa breathed, tearing her eyes from her reflection to shoot Sofia a grateful glance.

“Are you ready yet?” Stannis shouted from the foyer.

“Yes!” Sansa answered, laughter in her voice. “I’ll be with you in a sec!”

Sansa helped Sofia put the tools of her trade back into the big case that had intimidated Stannis, and they walked out to the foyer together. For all Stannis seemed to notice Sofia when they emerged she might as well not have been there, however. He only had eyes for Sansa.

He was blinking very rapidly and Sansa was pretty sure he stopped breathing for a second or five.

“What do you think?” she asked, turning in a circle and shooting him a wide grin.

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down and he blinked a few times. He looked genuinely _dazed._

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Sofia said, sounding amused. “You both look great! Have a good night.”

Sofia was right. Stannis looked _very_ nice in his formalwear. The dinner jacket was well fitted, emphasising his broad shoulders and slim waist, and it was so black that Sansa was certain it was sucking the light from his surroundings. There was not an unwanted crease in sight, and his bowtie was expertly knotted and so straight that Sansa wondered if he’d used a level.

Stannis managed to help Sofia out the door, but as soon as it had closed on her heels he was _staring_ again.

“Good?” Sansa said, feeling both excited and nervous.

Stannis nodded jerkily, seemingly unable to speak.

Sansa waited, knowing that sometimes it just took him a while to find the right words.

“You’ll steal the show,” he finally said, speaking in a low voice.

“We’ll steal it together,” Sansa countered with a flirtatious smile, “you look rather handsome yourself.”

Stannis’ eyes darkened, but instead of flirting back he cleared his throat and looked at his watch.

“How long until the car gets here?” she asked.

“Ten minutes.”

“We should be able to take that picture, then.” Sansa went over to her bag to fish out her old digital camera. It had a timer and would thus be better suited to the task of capturing a good picture of them together than her phone.

“Won’t it - er - mess up your lipstick?” Stannis asked, looking at the camera in dismay.

“Don’t worry, this is the sort of lipstick that doesn’t smudge.” Keeping a straight face while she said that was _hard._

Stannis was still looking at the camera as if it was an instrument of torture.

“Come on, kissing me can’t be that much of a chore,” Sansa said, trying to distract him.

He looked even more dismayed at that. “Of course it’s not a chore, that’s not what I -”

“I know.” She smiled at him and tried to tell him with her eyes that she understood.

Stannis sighed. “All right, where should we take it?”

They found a spot where they’d have a plain background and an adequate amount of light, and Sansa managed to balance the camera on a nearby bookshelf and frame the shot.

Sansa had imagined that taking a kissing picture might be romantic and sort of sexy. 

It absolutely wasn’t.

She had to keep going back and forth to set the timer, and they had to be very careful about where they placed their hands and how they angled their faces so that it would be clear that it was them, and so that they wouldn’t catch any unflattering angles. It took them the full ten minutes to get a decent shot, mostly because Stannis kept furrowing his brow and looking like he was not enjoying himself _at all,_ and then Sansa had to rush to connect the camera to her laptop, upload the picture and make it accessible on her phone so that she could make sure she’d be able to send it to Professor Baelish at the appropriate time. It only took five minutes, but with Stannis pacing around behind her it felt like much longer.

When Sansa finally sank into the comfortable backseat of the town car, she felt like it was the first time since she had woken up that she didn’t have to be _doing something._

“I think we should still be able to make it to the venue on time,” Stannis said, consulting his watch.

Sansa smiled at him. It really was rather endearing that he thought it would matter if they were five minutes late.

“I’m sure we will,” Sansa said, wishing she could just sleep until they arrived.

Stannis relaxed noticeably after that, his strained expression fading away to be replaced with a much more familiar look.

“You know,” he said conversationally, “the driver can’t see us.” His eyes were darkening. “Nor can anyone else. The windows are tinted.”

Sansa’s eyebrows rose up. “Do I seem like the sort of girl who would let a man have his way with me in the backseat of a car?” She tried to keep from smiling, but she was fairly sure her amusement was showing.

“You’d let me,” Stannis said, his lips quirking.

Sansa shook her head and pursed her lips. “This is your big night,” she said, “we can’t risk showing up looking like we had sex in the car on the way.” As she spoke she nonetheless placed her hand on his upper thigh, feeling him up until she had his hardening erection under her palm. She rubbed him through his trousers slowly, giving him an impish look.

“Sansa…” he hissed, looking at her with dark eyes.

She decided to leave him hanging. There was plenty of time until midnight, and she was sure she’d be able to figure out a way to give him a blowjob at _some_ point. If Lisa was right Stannis might even get her home before midnight, and then she’d be able to go down on him in the privacy of his house.

Anyway, Sansa hadn’t forgotten her vague plan of loosening Stannis’ tongue regarding his feelings for her by playing a little hard to get.

She gave Stannis’ cock a friendly squeeze and moved her hand away, placing it demurely in her lap. “May I have some Champagne, please?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him. Her stomach did a bit of a flip at the intense look he shot her. It was a look that promised that she would pay for her teasing.

She had to use all her self restraint not to squirm.

***

Stannis watched Sansa take a ladylike sip of her Champagne and wondered if he looked as flushed as he felt. He hadn’t really thought she’d be up for doing something in the backseat with the driver just a partition away, but he had sort of been hoping for a blowjob anyway. She only had until midnight if she was going to follow the rules.

Instead she had only fondled him in a very arousing and very _frustrating_ way.

When he had ordered Sansa to give him head once a day for a fortnight he really hadn’t expected her to take as seriously as she had so far. If she was too busy or tired he would never force her to go down on him. He would have pretended not to notice if she had dropped a day. But after the way she had just teased him he was seriously reconsidering his plan to be that generous.

She would probably enjoy it if he exacted some creative punishments...

Their eyes met, and Stannis tried to tell her with his gaze how much he wanted her. How much he _adored_ her. He didn’t care if no one showed up to the fundraiser. As long as she was there with him, the rest of the world could go to each and every one of the seven hells.

“Excited?” she asked, sipping her Champagne and looking at him over the rim of her glass.

“You made sure of that,” he murmured, raising an eyebrow. He hoped his erection would go down by the time they arrived at the venue, but it would not be easy to make it go away with Sansa sitting close by and looking and smelling the way she did.

She smiled widely and her eyes glittered as she spoke. “You know what I mean.”

“I hope tonight is a success,” he said, looking out of the tinted windows and trying to figure out whether they were getting any closer to the venue.

“I think it will be,” Sansa said, reaching to touch his cheek with her free hand.

“Your brother will be disappointed if it isn’t.”

“My brother is just thrilled that you’re doing this at all. He will be happy no matter how much or how little money gets raised. The fact that you at least _tried_ to do something means the world to him.” Sansa spoke earnestly, and was now touching his knee, squeezing it reassuringly. He tried to focus on what she was saying rather than on how much he wanted her to squeeze something else.

Jon had said something along those lines the last time they had spoken, but Stannis couldn’t help but think it was all talk. Of course Jon would be disappointed if the fundraiser flopped. He desperately needed the money they were hoping to raise in order to salvage the situation at the Wall.

“I’m sure he’ll tell you that himself tonight. He’s sitting at our table, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” Stannis said, wondering whether that had been a mistake. Jon didn’t know about Stannis’ relationship with Sansa. Maybe finding out the way he was about to find out would not bring out the best in him.

“How do you think he’ll react to us being together?” he asked, wishing to pick her brain for any information about what Jon might say or do so that he might prepare himself adequately. “Do you think he’ll cause a scene?”

“No, he knows how important tonight is. He wouldn’t do anything to sabotage the fundraiser.” Sansa furrowed her brow for a moment and then finished the dregs from her Champagne flute. “I don’t think we have to worry about him.”

They arrived at the venue soon after that, and Stannis took a deep breath. His erection was thankfully gone, and hopefully his cock would behave for the rest of the evening. He could not afford any distractions. He could also not afford to step out of the car with an obvious bulge beneath his belt. This was no red carpet event, but he knew there would probably be a few photographers stationed outside, eager to capture a good picture of him and his ‘mystery girlfriend’ arriving together. They’d have a field day if they caught him sporting a stiffy.

“Ready?” Sansa asked, smiling brightly.

He swallowed and nodded once. Ready as he’d ever be.

Stannis was blinded for a moment after he got out of the car, and had to blink several times before he was able to help Sansa. The flashes of several cameras kept going off, shutters clicking in rapid succession. He did his best not to scowl, but it was very difficult. He really despised this sort of thing.

“What’s her name?” several photographers shouted at once, “who is she?”

Sansa smiled and waved, but she remained silent. The photographers did not prevent them from making their way to the front door.

“No comment,” Stannis said, glaring at the photographers as he guided Sansa along, his hand firm on the small of her back. Sansa kept smiling, and Stannis imagined that she would look as beautiful as he would look irritated in the pictures that were being snapped.

“That was so weird,” Sansa whispered once they were through the door. 

Stannis hummed out a response. He didn’t really know what to say.

He could hear the noise of a crowd of people a little further inside, and some of the tension in his’ shoulders drained away. It sounded as if the event would not be a flop. He couldn’t afford to relax completely, however. The fundraiser might still be a failure if only the small fish had showed up. Stannis needed at least a handful of really big fish to come and donate substantial amounts of money.

Smartly dressed people who moved with competence and grace relieved him of his coat and Sansa of her wrap. They guided them over to the noisy room and handed them drinks. Sansa was given a flute of Champagne, he was wordlessly given a matching flute that contained sparkling water.

Excellent service.

There was no dramatic moment where the crowd became silent and every face turned towards them. They simply entered the room and started to make the rounds. The people closest to them definitely took more than one look at Sansa, but on the whole the guests were too well-mannered to gape and stare.

Stannis thought it would get exhausting to introduce Sansa over and over again as they moved around to greet the guests, but for some reason he could not seem to get enough of it.

“May I introduce my girlfriend, Sansa Stark,” he said for probably the twentieth time, still feeling like the cat who got the cream as he said it. His girlfriend. His beautiful, intelligent and poised girlfriend who had felt him up in the car on the way and would probably want him to fuck her silly once they got home tonight. His girlfriend who would enjoy the breakfast he was planning to make for her tomorrow morning and tease him when he started cursing under his breath when the Sudoku puzzle in the newspaper gave him trouble.

His girlfriend who he loved more than he probably should after such a short time together.

Of course, he was very careful to conceal his smug and sentimental feelings whenever he introduced Sansa as his girlfriend. It would not do for people to realise that he was wasn’t his usual stern self; they might assume that he was going soft. And men who acted smug about their gorgeous girlfriends were intolerable. 

Stannis would know. His brother was one of those intolerable men.

Everyone was very curious about Sansa, but polite enough not to ask too many questions, and things were going quite well until it was Mace Tyrell who was standing in front of Stannis, reaching for a handshake and giving Sansa the once-, twice-, and thrice-over.

“I’ll be damned,” Mace said, sweat appearing on his upper lip, “I can see why you forsook your sacred vow of chastity.”

Stannis had taken no such vow. He simply turned down the silly chits Mace liked to send over whenever he wanted to butter Stannis up before he swooped in to propose a business deal.

“Very droll,” Stannis said with a scowl.

“I’m sure you’re much prettier than the girls from Lys Cersei usually has at her parties,” Mace said to Sansa, breathing more through his mouth than through his nose and looking more at her chest than at her face. “And a _Stark._ ”

Stannis wondered how many pre-dinner flutes of Champagne the man had poured down his gullet. He was being completely inappropriate.

“Thank you, you’re too kind,” Sansa said, sounding completely sincere and smiling as if a royal prince had just paid her the most wonderful of compliments.

“What a charming young lady,” Mace said, his face reddening slightly. "How young, may I ask?" he added, attempting to sound casual and failing completely.

"With three grown siblings you can hardly expect me to own to it," Sansa said with a silvery laugh and a cheeky look in her eyes.

Stannis realised that she had just made a clever literary reference and smoothly avoided answering Tyrell's question in one neat sentence, and he couldn't help but swell with pride.

Sansa could clearly hold her own among the vipers of King's Landing society.

After they had finished making the rounds Stannis was very pleased to note that all the biggest names in Westerosi society had shown up in person, snubbing Cersei's party in order to be at his fundraiser. Brynden Tully was towering over the people he was chatting with, Wyman Manderly was holding two glasses of Champagne and laughing more loudly than anyone in the room, Balon Greyjoy was glaring at everyone who came near him, Randyll Tarly seemed to have brought his son along for once, Old Man Hightower was holding court in one corner of the room, and even Arianne Martell had shown up. Surprisingly, Tyrion Lannister was also in the crowd with an attractive brunette on his arm. Stannis hadn’t expected any Lannister to show up due to Cersei’s party. The dwarf raised his glass when their eyes met, his eyes glittering with amusement. Stannis nodded curtly in return.

There was something immensely satisfying about knowing that not only had he succeeded, but that Cersei had _failed._

His brothers were the most notable exceptions. They had apparently decided to go to Cersei’s event. Stannis could not pretend that it did not sting, but he had not truly expected anything different. Robert always took the path of least resistance, and angering his wife would likely make his daily life more difficult than disappointing Stannis for the thousandth time would. Renly would be unlikely to pass up an opportunity to receive glittering Lannister gifts.

Commander Snow was among the last guests to arrive, and he made a beeline for Stannis. Sansa tensed up beside him and took a large sip of her Champagne.

"I hope I'm not very late," Jon said, shaking Stannis' hand, "I had a bit of trouble finding this place. I haven't been to King's Landing very often."

Jon did not seem to have noticed Sansa as he was so intent and focused on conversing with Stannis. He jumped when Sansa squared her shoulders, smiled, and said, "hello, Jon."

Jon recovered quickly from his surprise. "Sansa! I didn't know you'd be here. You look amazing!"

Sansa made a point of stepping closer to Stannis, wrapping herself around his arm in a way that said without words that she was there as his date. "Thank you," she said, still smiling even though Jon was giving her a very confused look.

"Er," Jon said, blinking at Stannis and Sansa in turn, "why do I get the feeling that I've missed something?"

Stannis’ face had frozen into a blank expression. He couldn’t think what to say. Hopefully Sansa would do the talking.

"We're together," Sansa explained, looking up at Stannis with a shy smile. "We've been seeing each other for a while, but we haven't been talking about it until tonight. Mum and Dad know, though."

"Really?" Jon fixed Stannis with a piercing look.

Stannis resisted the urge to look away or shift from foot to foot.

"I can't say I'm surprised," Jon muttered. In a louder, forcibly cheerful voice he said, "you two must really have hit it off on that train."

Sansa looked very pleased that Jon was not going to give them a hard time and launched into the story of how Stannis had rescued her from Hardyng. To Stannis’ chagrin she even told him the part about how they had pretended to be engaged, though she thankfully left out the kissing bits. Jon raised both eyebrows and gave Stannis an incredulous look or two, but by the time Sansa finished talking he was looking at Stannis with something akin to acceptance.

Or more like tolerance, perhaps.

A little while later a member of the staff informed Stannis that they were ready for the party to progress to the dining room, and Stannis was led to a small podium that had been set up for the occasion. The microphone had been adjusted to precisely the right height for him. Sansa stood a little to the side behind him as he took his place before the microphone, and he felt a little like a politician with his supportive wife at his back. Except Sansa was not his wife, obviously.

Not yet.

It was easy to welcome the guests, and he barely needed to glance down at the talking points Davos had jotted down. He thanked everyone for coming and briefly explained why he had asked them all to gather here today and contribute to the Night’s Watch’s cause. He told them what to expect as they enjoyed their dinner - entertainment and speeches and such - and asked them to pay close attention to Commander Snow's speech, even if they ignored everyone else. (Jon shot him a surprised but pleased look at that.)

He glanced at Sansa as he was wrapping the welcome speech up, feeling decidedly out of his element now that he was supposed to make a toast. She beamed at him, encouraging him with her eyes.

"I'd like to propose a toast," he said, lifting his flute of sparkling water, "to all of you for taking the time to come here tonight, to Sansa Stark for suggesting this fundraiser and being the reason we are all gathered here," he inclined his head in her direction and was very pleased to see her cheeks pinken, "and to the Night's Watch," he finished, "for protecting the realm." He held his flute up for a moment and listened as the crowd chanted, "the Night's Watch!" before they all took a drink from their glasses at once.

There was a smattering of polite applause, and then the crowd started to move through to the lavish dining room.

"Thank you," Sansa said, squeezing his arm lightly when he offered it to her so that he might escort her to their table. "That was a lovely toast."

Davos had told him to toast the guests and the Watch, Stannis admitted, but the part about Sansa had been his own idea.

"You really didn't have to," Sansa said, but her happy smile told him that she was very pleased he had.

"I wanted to," he told her. It was as simple as that.

The look in Sansa’s eyes made him feel incredibly warm, and he wondered if he should use tonight as an opportunity to reveal his feelings for her. He was almost certain she returned his feelings, but there was always that nagging doubt… Why would a girl like Sansa ever love a man like him?

Dinner was a predictably dull affair, made tolerable only because Sansa was near him. He listened dutifully to all the speeches and tolerated the entertainers. He had been right to encourage everyone to listen to Jon even if they ignored all the others as Jon's speech was easily the most rousing of the bunch. People were practically diving for their checkbooks after he finished.

"How much longer?" Sansa whispered to him after dessert had been served. She was giving him a look he hoped Jon would not notice. It made his hands itch with the desire to touch her.

"A couple of hours," Stannis guessed, glancing at his watch. He'd have to be among the last to leave. "Have you sent Baelish the picture?" Looking at his watch had reminded him that they were supposed to deliver the agreed-upon photograph before midnight.

"No, I'll do it now."

Stannis watched as she surreptitiously got her phone out of her clutch and held it discreetly in her lap as she prodded the screen.

"Done," she said after less than a minute.

Stannis clenched his jaw and nodded. He hated the fact that everyone with an Internet access would soon be able to see what it looked like when he and Sansa kissed, but the alternative was much worse. He did not want Sansa - or himself - to be forced to look over their shoulder and worry about photographers that were paid to take humiliating pictures of them.

Still, Stannis would find a way to get back at Baelish for this. It might not happen right away, but some day down the line Baelish would find to his detriment that Stannis could hold onto a grudge for a _very_ long time.

"What do you think people will say when they see it?" she asked, speaking in low tones so she wouldn't catch Jon's attention.

"It doesn't matter. It'll be rot." Stannis was fairly certain the gossip mongers would find a way to drag Sansa’s name through the mud even though she was an intelligent, educated young woman from an old and respected family. Based on how Robert was still welcomed by high society and how his various mistresses got treated like second-class citizens, Stannis was fairly sure his own name would not get besmirched the way Sansa’s likely would, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Maybe no one will care about the picture? I mean, after tonight everyone will know who I am and that I'm your girlfriend. The fact that we kiss can't be very interesting to the public. All couples kiss."

_Sweet summer child._

“Maybe,” he murmured. Usually he would have tried to explain his thoughts and prepare her for the worst, but now was not the time. He really should have had this conversation with her before exposing their relationship to the world, but there had always been some distraction or other.

And he hadn’t wanted her to change her mind about being with him.

Stannis knew that the current speech was the last one, and he tried to focus on what Wyman Manderly was saying instead of worrying about his relationship with Sansa. He had only just managed to catch that Manderly was apparently very happy to have been invited to speak about the importance of the Wall to people like himself who lived in the north when he felt Sansa’s hand on his thigh and got completely distracted.

Stannis glanced at her, but she appeared to be paying attention to nothing but Manderly’s speech.

The hand started to move closer to his groin, and he inhaled sharply. She was _evil,_ and she would most definitely pay for this.

She stroked his stiffening cock through his trousers, moving her hand slowly so no one would notice that she wasn’t sitting still like a proper lady. Stannis couldn’t bring himself to push her hand away even though Jon, a member of her _family_ was sitting right next to him. Her touch just felt so _good,_ and he had been hungry for her ever since he had first seen her in her beautiful dress...

He couldn’t let her go on like this, however. If she kept the touching up for much longer she’d make it impossible for him to get the erection to go away before he’d be forced to stand up, and that would be - well - awkward.

“Sansa,” he said under his breath, giving her a look that he hoped conveyed a clear order to _desist._

She smiled, _winked,_ and took her hand away.

_Fucking hells._

Luckily for Stannis, the people around them, including a blissfully ignorant Jon, lingered over coffee and brandy for a while, and he was able to get his body under control by the time the small string orchestra set up and started to play pieces that people were encouraged to dance to.

Sansa had the gall to give him a pleading look, clearly wishing to dance.

“I don’t dance,” he said quickly.

“Please?” She was biting her lip in that unfair way.

“I’m really not good at it,” he explained, trying to convince her that this was not a good idea. He also did not think he owed her any favours after the way she had been teasing him.

“Jon, tell him that he needs to dance with me,” Sansa said, directing her words at her brother.

“I’ll dance with you if you want,” Jon said, shrugging awkwardly and going a bit pink.

Sansa raised a questioning eyebrow at Stannis.

Stannis clenched his jaw. He was not jealous of Jon, but… well, he was a little jealous. Even though it made absolutely no damn sense.

“One dance,” Stannis said, standing up and holding his hand out for Sansa to take. She beamed and took it at once.

It had been _years_ since his mother had forced him and Robert to take dance lessons. Renly hadn’t even been born. Still, he’d probably remember the waltz even if he got hit on the head and forgot everything else. That witch of a dance teacher had drilled her pupils mercilessly.

Sansa was predictably light on her feet, and as she was wearing very tall shoes her height was rather perfect for him. There weren’t very many couples on the floor, but enough to make Stannis feel a little less like he was making a spectacle of himself, and after a minute or two of getting into the rhythm, he actually started to feel like it was sort of… nice to dance with Sansa.

“You’re not bad at this at all,” Sansa said after a while, gazing dreamily up at him.

He mock glared at her and pretended to be very occupied with counting the beats under his breath just to be contrary. She burst out laughing, and it was the best feeling in the world to watch her throw her head back and look so _happy._ He had done that. He had made her laugh. 

Stannis wondered what else he could make her do, and let his fingers rub light circles where he was touching her beneath her shoulder blade. The touch seemed to please Sansa, and she breathed out a soft sigh. Hopefully she was distracted enough so that she wouldn’t notice that he was leading them further and further from the centre of the dance floor. In fact, he was leading them right to the edge and towards a wall. Gradually he slowed them down, until finally they came to a halt precisely where he had planned on stopping.

“What? -” Sansa began, looking confused.

He didn’t let her finish. He opened the door that he had so masterfully steered them towards, and pulled her out into a corridor that the waiters had been using. It clearly lead to the kitchens, but it also led to a perfectly serviceable cleaning supply room.

He pulled them into the small room, closing the door behind them and ignoring the scent of various cleaning agents and the piles of paper towels wrapped in plastic.

“Stannis, what are you doing?” Sansa hissed, her eyes wide.

“Did you think you could get away with being such a tease?” he asked her, his voice deepening.

Sansa was blushing in the unflattering fluorescent light, but she looked gorgeous. Completely out of place among the mops and the detergent, but still gorgeous.

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, her voice breathless and her eyes bright.

“I believe you can guess,” Stannis said, his hands going to his belt and undoing the buckle with a practised movement.

Sansa bit her lip and nodded, but instead of getting on her knees straight away like he had expected her to, she looked around and grabbed a packet of paper towels. She put it on the grubby floor at his feet and only then did she kneel. He had managed to get his cock out while she did this, and thirty seconds later she had her hand around the base and her mouth around the head. Stannis rested a hand on one of her shoulder blades - careful of her hair - and failed to keep his breathing silent. She was probably going to make him moan.

He knew that she couldn’t risk taking him very deep as it still always made her tear up - and he understood that tears would be hazardous to her makeup - but she was already using her tongue to great effect and manipulating him expertly with her hands to make up for the difference.

“Fuck, Sansa, _fuck,_ ” he hissed, one of his legs twitching as if he’d received an electric shock. She had just sucked both his balls into her mouth.

After a moment she released him. “Tell me what you want,” she said, breathless and flushed. He could tell that she was turned on, and he felt a thrill at the knowledge that he would make her _wait._ She would be forced to wait until they were back at the house to get any relief. She’d be forced to be all proper and perfect for the rest of the evening and keep from squirming in her seat. She’d have to keep from blushing even though she’d probably be thinking about how much she wanted him to just start ploughing into her right on the table in front of her brother and _everyone._

“Suck hard,” he said, his voice gravelly and strained, “and grip tightly.” He got a hold of the nape of her neck and guided her lips to the head of his cock. Then he made her wrap one hand back around the base like before, and placed the other one on his balls -- still a bit moist from having been in her mouth. It felt wonderful. More than wonderful… it was glorious relief.

She started to suck as hard as he needed her to, and he could tell that it was exhausting for her by the way she had to take breaks every now and then. She had to keep switching hands, too. He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty about demanding the punishing pace, however, and moaned loudly at the pleasure of it all.

As his climax approached his breathing became more laboured and ragged, and he pressed his palm down on her shoulder blade a bit harder, making sure she wouldn’t pull away.

“I’m -” he began, grunting incoherently, “I’m going to -”

Everything when black for a moment as he came. Nothing existed except the sensation of Sansa’s hot mouth on his cock, licking up every last drop that she could wring from him. He was grateful when she was very careful about getting it all and swallowing it down neatly. It would not do for his trousers to have unseemly stains.

It was hard to care about stains when he felt so satisfied, however. He felt like he was floating on a warm ocean somewhere, the water salty enough to let him relax completely without worrying about sinking.

“You taste nice today,” she informed him after a few moments, bringing him back to himself.

Sansa had started to occasionally tell him what he tasted like, and he found it rather interesting. Apparently there was a significant variation. He didn’t say anything. Normally he would have offered her something to drink, but he did not think the soaps and various mess-removers would be good for her.

Stannis started to put his cock away and watched as Sansa gingerly touched a finger to her lips and then glanced at it. Her lipstick still looked the way it had when it had been freshly applied.

“It hasn’t smudged,” he told her, and she smiled up at him in delight.

He left his belt unbuckled in favour of offering her his hand. She took it, and looked up at him with an expression that made him _certain_ that she loved him.

He couldn’t contain himself. “Sansa, I want to tell you something -”

There was a loud noise that cut Stannis off. The noise of a door being thrown open.

Stannis had his back to the door, but by the stricken look on Sansa’s face they had not just been caught by an unsuspecting member of the staff.

“Jon!” Sansa gasped.

Stannis felt himself blanch. This was… this was not good. It could have been worse, however. At least they were no longer in the middle of things. He hurriedly finished buckling his belt and helped Sansa to her feet. With a deep breath he turned around to face his girlfriend’s brother.

Jon had scrunched his face up and squeezed his eyes shut. “Is… is everyone decent?” he asked weakly.

“Yes, of course,” Sansa said, her voice a lot higher than usual. “What are you doing in here?”

Jon opened one eye and then the other. He looked rather like Stannis felt. Like he wanted to disappear into the ground.

“You should both come back to the ballroom. There’s a… there’s a situation.” Jon looked at Stannis as he spoke, and there was something very anxious in his eyes.

“How did you find us?” Sansa asked, sounding mortified.

“I saw when you left the dance floor. I just checked the first door in this corridor. It wasn’t that hard,” Jon sounded a little exasperated.

“Oh.” Sansa shot Stannis an embarrassed look. It was a look he might have enjoyed under different circumstances, but the anxiety in Jon’s eyes was making him feel anxious, too.

“Look, I don’t want to think about what you two were doing in here and I won’t ask, but can we please just get going?” Jon was already moving back to the corridor.

Stannis hurried after him, and he heard the click clack of Sansa’s heels close behind him.

The moment Stannis followed Jon into the ballroom he understood what the situation was. 

The situation was Robert.

“Thank you for finding me,” Stannis said to Jon, “I’ll take care of this.”

Robert was in the middle of shouting at one of the waiters, demanding to be taken to see Stannis. Everyone in the room was staring at the scene. Some, like Tyrion Lannister, looked amused, some confused, and a few even looked a little offended.

Stannis realised too late that Sansa had followed him over to his brother. Robert noticed them before he could ask her to take herself out of harm’s way.

“You couldn’t have told me?” Robert roared, red-faced and obviously furious.

Stannis didn’t bother to ask what Robert was talking about. “I would have told you tonight if you had bothered to show up,” he said, trying to keep calm. He did not want to cause more of a scene.

“Ned’s daughter, Stannis!” Robert shouted, “there are pictures of you two kissing all over the Internet!”

“Why don’t we all step outside?” Jon had caught up, ready to intervene.

Stannis glanced at Sansa. She was looking shocked and a little frightened. She had probably never seen Robert in one of his furies. He looked around at the couples that had been dancing and at people who were still sitting at the tables. Many had their phones out. Stannis realised they were probably recording the confrontation.

Jon was right. They needed to leave the room.

Between the three of them, Stannis, Jon and Sansa managed to get Robert to join them outside in the entrance hall.

Jon asked a member of the staff to make sure they weren’t followed.

“Explain yourself!” Robert’s voice echoed off the walls and the high ceiling.

“There’s nothing to explain,” Stannis bit out, “Sansa and I are together. We’re two consenting adults.”

“When I told you to look out for her on that train I didn’t mean for you to use the opportunity to prey on her!” Robert did not seem to have heard what Stannis had said.

“Don’t be absurd,” Stannis crossed his arms in front of his chest and _glared,_ “I did not _prey_ on her.”

“Of course you did! She must have been vulnerable and - and frightened that something like what happened with that Bolton kid might happen again, and you - you used that to ingratiate yourself with her!” Robert was spluttering and turning faintly purple.

“Robert,” Sansa snapped, sounding extremely offended, “you’re being very rude.”

“Stay out of this!” Robert shouted, “the adults are talking.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. She looked like she could not believe Robert had just said that.

“Don’t speak to her that way.” Stannis had to work very hard not to start shouting himself. He could feel a vein throbbing on the side of his neck, and his face felt very hot.

“I’ll speak any damn way I please,” Robert practically growled, “I demand that you break this off. Right now.”

“Excuse me?” Sansa’s voice was very cool, but there was fire in her eyes.

Robert barely spared her a glance. “I told you to stay out of this,” he said, focusing on glaring at Stannis even as he spoke to her.

“I think everyone here should just take a step back and breathe,” Jon said, sounding very a stern and reminding Stannis irresistibly of Ned Stark.

Maybe Robert had been reminded of Ned, too, or maybe it was just the quiet authority the Commander exuded, but whatever the reason, Robert’s rage seemed to fade a little.

“I understand that this has come as a shock,” Jon said quietly to Robert, “and I won’t pretend I wasn’t surprised, too. But you’re not going to accomplish anything by shouting at them.”

Stannis was very impressed with Jon. If anyone had a reason to shout at Stannis it was him, and he was keeping remarkably calm.

Robert scowled and mirrored Stannis’ posture, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Go back to your wife’s party,” Stannis said coldly, “I don’t want you here.”

Jon shot Stannis an irritated look that seemed to say: ‘Not helping.’

“What party?” Robert snapped, “there’s only ten people there. Cersei’s apoplectic.”

“She should have picked another night,” Stannis said, not feeling the least bit sorry that Cersei’s party had flopped.

Robert was ignoring Stannis, however. He had turned to face Sansa and was clearly attempting to look sympathetic instead of enraged.

“I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but you don’t have to be with him,” Robert said, throwing a vicious glare at Stannis as he spoke. “You don’t owe him anything.”

Stannis opened his mouth to interject, feeling incensed that Robert would talk that way to Sansa, but she beat him to the punch.

“I realise you are probably under the impression that you mean well, and I do appreciate that you asked Stannis to look out for me on the train. That was kind of you,” Sansa said, nodding her head to acknowledge Robert, “but you’re being beyond rude right now. Stannis and I are in a committed relationship, and I would appreciate it if you could respect that and keep your nose out.” She took a deep breath. “I’m happy with Stannis,” she added, lifting her chin and meeting Robert’s eyes, “and I hope you will be able to find it in your heart to be happy for us.”

Stannis felt his heart swell with pride and love as she spoke, and he wished he could just pick her up and carry her off. He wanted to kiss every inch of her skin for being so _perfect._

Robert was blinking at Sansa as if she had just grown another head. “Happy?” he repeated, sounding both angry and baffled.

“Yes.” Sansa stood with her back straight and met Robert’s eyes fiercely.

Robert started to say something but it turned into incomprehensible gibberish as he spluttered and garbled his words. He was gesturing wildly, looking furious, helpless and unable to cope. Finally he managed to get out an understandable sentence.

“I’m calling Ned!”

With that, Robert turned around and stormed from the building.

Stannis went to Sansa as soon as Robert was gone, hugging her briefly before letting her go, mindful of Jon’s presence. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, pitching his voice low.

Sansa shivered and hugged herself, but she nodded. “Bit of an adrenaline rush, but yeah. I’m fine.”

Standing up to Robert while he was in a rage was no easy task and Sansa was not used to seeing Robert like that. He could understand why she’d be a bit shaky.

“I’m sorry about him,” he sighed, “I had hoped you wouldn’t be around for the initial explosion. He’ll get over it.” Robert’s temper might be volatile, but his rages never lasted long. Stannis imagined that the next time Sansa saw Robert he’d be laughing about the whole thing.

“Dad will calm him down,” Jon said, coming over to pat Sansa on the back.

She gave them both a small grateful smile in turn, though she didn’t seem to be able to meet Jon’s eyes. Stannis didn’t blame her. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look Jon in the eye after what he had walked in on. “We should go back inside,” she said. “Give people an opportunity to ask us what happened.”

Stannis frowned. “It’s not their business.”

“They’ll be curious nonetheless, and we should try to make sure everyone hears the story the way _we_ tell it. They’re going to gossip no matter what, so we might as well try to minimise the damage.”

He felt his shoulders slump slightly. Gossip, drama, and _dancing_. What a night.

“What should we tell everyone?” he asked.

“The truth,” Sansa said with a firm nod. “Robert was upset to find out about our relationship because he’s very protective of me due to his close relationship with my father, and he has calmed down now that the initial shock has worn off.” She glanced at Jon and blushed. “Um, Stannis and I would appreciate it if you kept what you saw in that cleaning supply room to yourself.”

Jon went very red and nodded frantically. “Consider it forgotten,” he said.

Stannis felt very relieved that Jon was willing to to overlook what he had seen and shot the younger man an awkward, but very grateful look. Then he took a deep breath and mentally prepared himself. It would be a chore to explain things over and over to different curious people, but it would be worth it.

Sansa was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The silver dress I had in mind was something that Sophie wore once. [Here](http://sarahtheblack.tumblr.com/post/145001389988) is a picture. Thanks go to Tommy for suggesting it!


	16. Naughty and Precious

Sansa could no longer sit with Jeyne’s business major friends on campus. They would not stop _staring_ at her and asking her inappropriate questions about her relationship with Stannis.

Thankfully it was only really the business majors at school who seemed to be interested in her relationship with Stannis. He wasn’t exactly _famous,_ after all, and neither was she.

Still, she had noticed people stopping to give her a second look when she had been out and about for a few days after the kissing picture had been posted on the Mockingbird website. It had been very strange to be looked at as some sort of curiosity, and it had been even stranger to read the comments on the article that had been posted along with the picture.

Some people actually seemed convinced that she had been the reason for Stannis’ divorce. It had been _years_ since he and Selyse split up, and yet they were calling Sansa a homewrecker. She might have felt upset if she hadn’t been busy feeling completely baffled and bemused by it.

Stannis was not baffled and bemused. He was angry in the sort of way her father sometimes got angry. It was anger that was cold and hard and _lasting._ She was glad that he wasn’t taking it out on her, but she could see it in the way he tensed up, pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes every time he was reminded of the gossip surrounding them.

The hubbub had died down relatively quickly, however, as the public really did not seem to be all that interested in Stannis or who he chose to kiss.

Their families were a different matter.

Robert was still sulking because she and Stannis were refusing to break up, her father was irritated with them because Robert would not stop calling him and demanding that he ‘do something’ about the situation, her mother was still trying to convince Sansa that she should move on and find herself a more appropriate man to date, Robb and Bran had taken to teasing her relentlessly about the gossip that was circulating about her, sending her every bizarre comment they found about the matter online, and Arya kept asking her if she needed help getting rid of the ‘old creep’.

Bizarrely enough, Jon was the only one who had decided to be supportive. He was the only person Sansa would not have blamed for acting weird about her relationship with Stannis, but despite what he had seen Stannis and Sansa were his new favourite people. The fundraiser they had been responsible for had been a huge success after all, and Jon went back to the Wall with the necessary funds to actually do his job, practically skipping with joy.

Sansa knew she would soon get over the embarrassment of having Jon catch her on her knees in front of Stannis, but she was having a bit more trouble getting over the fact that Jon had interrupted Stannis in the middle of telling her something she was fairly sure had been _important._ She hadn’t dared to bring the subject up with Stannis as things had been a bit crazy for the past few days, but she had slowly been working up the nerve to ask him to finish what he had started.

Today it was Tuesday, and it had been more than a week since the fundraiser. Sansa was sitting by herself in a café close by the University, trying to read but constantly getting distracted by her thoughts about what whether she would be able to have a proper talk with Stannis that evening. It was the last day of her ‘punishment’ and Sansa had managed to give Stannis a blowjob a day for nearly two weeks. Today would be no different. She was planning to sleep over at his house, and she was very much hoping that he’d be in a receptive and _talkative_ mood.

“Well, well, well,” a handsome boy with a dimpled smile said, dropping into the empty seat across from her.

It was Harry Hardyng.

"You lied to me," he said, raising an eyebrow, "or you're lying to everyone else."

Sansa closed her book and got ready to stand up.

"Come on, don't just _leave,_ " Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Or I'll tell the Mockingbird that you and Stannis Baratheon are engaged."

Sansa pressed her lips tightly together and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She stayed in her seat.

"I see you're still going about with bare fingers. Didn't get your granny's ring?" Harry's voice was mocking.

"I lied about the engagement," Sansa bit out, glaring at Harry.

"Tut tut," Harry said, shaking his head, "don't you know it's immoral to lie?"

Sansa couldn't believe him. Who was he to lecture her about morals? "How moral is it to proposition women on trains after ten minutes of conversation and practically refuse to take no for an answer? Can you tell me that?" she snapped, narrowing her eyes into an even more ferocious glare.

“You were obviously gagging for it,” Harry said, sounding perfectly unconcerned, “I thought you were just playing hard to get.”

“Tell the Mockingbird whatever you want, I’m not going to sit here and listen to this,” Sansa hissed, “you’re disgusting.”

“Oh, I get it,” Harry said, standing up at the same time as she did, “you’re one of those feminist bitches, aren’t you? You think you’re better than me because you have a cunt?” His face was turning a bit red, and his unconcerned tone was changing into a heated, argumentative one.

“I _am_ a feminist,” Sansa said, trying to keep her voice from shaking with anger, “and that means I think I deserve to be treated like a human being, not like an object for you to stick your entitled cock into whenever you feel like you’ve earned it by acting marginally nice for a second or two.”

“And I suppose you made Stannis Baratheon grovel for months before you deigned to uncross your prudish legs?” Harry scoffed. “I bet it took him less than a second to get you on your knees. You feminist bitches are all the same. You want equal rights until a man with a fat bank account comes along, and then you’re suddenly eager to to be a Stepford Wife and spend your days drinking cocktails and going to the spa.”

Sansa took a very deep breath and repeatedly told herself that slapping him would not solve any of her problems.

“I’m sorry for every woman who is forced to tolerate your presence in her life,” she said, feeling proud of how well she was managing to control the tone of her voice. “For their sake, I sincerely hope you eventually grow up. Please don’t ever speak to me again.”

She met his eyes and felt very satisfied to see the helpless anger in them. He could not shout at her in the middle of a café where people were already starting to give them strange looks.

“You’re an ugly cunt, anyway,” he spat, turning on his heel and stalking from the café.

Sansa closed her eyes for a moment -- as if it would help her deflect the insult. When she opened them back up she noticed a few girls around the café giving her the thumbs up or smiling at her. She returned the smiles and sat back down at her table, the thrill of a victory warming her blood.

Harry’s insults didn’t mean anything to her because _he_ didn’t mean anything to her.

***

Sansa had spent the rest of her day after her encounter with Harry feeling almost invincible. She was a strong, independent woman. She could hold her own in conversations with misogynistic pigs, and she could get them to leave her alone without simply telling them that she had a boyfriend.

Before she had made her way over to Stannis’ house she had told Jeyne about the encounter and Jeyne had been thrilled for her.

“You’re my hero,” Jeyne had said, smiling from ear to ear, “I wish I could have been there to give you a feminist high five!”

Now that Sansa was at Stannis’ house, helping him make dinner and contemplating where and when to give him that blowjob, she was starting to wonder about her status as a feminist. Was it ‘un-feminist’ of her to enjoy the sort of sex she had with Stannis? To enjoy the power games and the ‘punishments’ and the embarrassment?

She was quiet as she chopped vegetables up for the salad, and thoughtful as she mixed vinegar, oil, and a splash of lemon juice for the dressing.

When it was time to sit down and eat she barely paid attention to what she was doing as she poured water into her glass, and it ended up overflowing and causing a minor flood situation on the table. Stannis was quick to reach for some paper towels to mop the mess up, but he gave her a curious look.

“Something on your mind?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Do you think I’m a bad feminist?” she blurted, furrowing her brow worriedly.

Stannis thought the question over as he served himself a portion of the pasta dish they had made. She noticed that he avoided the shrimp in favour of the other bits of seafood in the sauce. He knew she liked the shrimp the best.

“What’s a bad feminist?” he finally asked, giving her a serious look and starting to eat as he waited for her answer.

Sansa hadn’t expected the question. It was obvious what a bad feminist was, wasn’t it?

Why couldn’t she think of a good answer, then? She served herself some pasta - heavy on the shrimp - while she tried to put her thoughts into words.

“I guess it’s a person who calls themself a feminist but doesn’t always act like one,” she said in the end.

The pasta was perfect. She closed her eyes for a moment to savour the first bite.

“How does a feminist act?” Stannis asked, tilting his head to the side.

Sansa frowned and took a sip of her water. “A feminist acts like they want equal rights. Like they want women to be afforded the same privileges that men are afforded, and the same respect.”

“So a bad feminist would sometimes act like they don’t believe that?” Stannis asked, obviously doing his best to understand her.

“I guess, yeah,” Sansa said with a nod.

“Then no,” he said, meeting her eyes for a moment, “you’re not a bad feminist at all.”

Sansa felt a rush of relief, but it was immediately followed by more doubts. Maybe he hadn’t considered the sex stuff?

“But what about all the things I like doing with you, you know, like the -” she blushed and looked down at her plate, “- spanking and everything?”

Stannis took a deep breath and put his cutlery down. She looked up, wondering what sort of expression was on his face. He looked quite as serious as before.

“I have never once taken your preferences in the bedroom to mean that you do not wish for me to respect you as a person. I hope my behaviour has not made you think that. I respect you very much.” He took a breath and reddened slightly. “And I - I - care about you.”

For a second Sansa had been convinced that he was about to say that he loved her, and her heart started to beat madly in her chest. She smiled brightly at him, thinking about the other things he had said and feeling warmed and reassured by his words.

“I care about you, too,” she said, infusing her voice with as much sincerity and love as she could. She hoped she was understanding him correctly, but doubt still nagged at her. Was it too early for them to be in love? It had just been a little over a month… how long was it supposed to take?

They gazed into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and Sansa got a bit lost in the dark blue depths. She was almost completely sure that he was looking at her with love. Willas had looked at her the same way when they had been at the height of their romance.

Stannis cleared his throat and picked his cutlery back up. “I hope I answered your question.”

Sansa nodded and started to eat, too. She wished he had made himself a bit more clear regarding his feelings, and a part of her was burning to ask him whether this had been the confession he had been about to make in that cleaning supply room, but maybe it would be best to wait? She really didn’t want to pressure him...

They ended up on one of the sofas in the living room after they had finished clearing up after dinner, staring out the window and watching the pink and orange colours of the sky reflected in the waters of the bay. Stannis had his arm around her, and it felt wonderful to lean against him even though he was always a bit too hard to function as a pillow.

As nice as it was to watch the sunset, it did get boring after a while.

Her hand found its way to his groin and she started to pet him, shooting him a playful look.

“No patience for the sunset?” he asked, sounding dryly amused.

She bit her lip and shook her head.

He huffed out one of his little laughs and gave her a look that seemed to say: ‘by all means, then.’

She took her time about getting him hard and teasing him with what was about to come. One might have thought that he’d be less excited by the prospect of a blowjob after receiving one a day for a fortnight, but he always looked at her with lust-darkened eyes as she got his cock free, excited and full of anticipation.

It was fun to touch him. She liked it when it twitched and jumped, and she liked moving the thin soft skin back and forth over the hard length. She liked tracing the familiar veins, scratching lightly at the sensitive skin of of his sack, spreading the clear droplets of precome around the head, and listening to him make little sounds of pleasure as she did it all.

“Not that I’m not enjoying this,” Stannis said after a while, his voice a little strained, “but if you want this to count you’re going to have to use your mouth.”

Sansa gave him an exaggerated flirtatious look and leant in to kiss him. “There, I used my mouth,” she joked.

Stannis’ eyes glittered with amusement, but he didn’t smirk or do his little huffed out laugh or anything like that. Instead he just stared her down. 

She squirmed and felt her panties get uncomfortably wet. She had already been a bit turned on due to the sight of his cock and the knowledge of what she was about to spend her evening doing, but now that he was looking at her like that… 

Without a word she slid from the sofa and to her knees. She felt herself blush as she looked up at Stannis from between his thighs, his cock jutting in front of her face. Her heart was racing.

“Good girl,” he murmured, using one of his hands to comb through her hair in a very enjoyable way.

She whimpered and immediately got to work, loving the way he groaned as soon as her lips enveloped the head of his cock. She loved every sound he made as she sucked him, but her favourite sounds were always the drawn out moans she could sometimes get him to emit.

Going down on him wasn’t easy. He was big, and it made the muscles of her jaw ache to keep them wide open for several minutes at a time. He usually never came unless she sucked quite hard, gripped him tightly and moved her hand really fast, and it was very tiring. But she’d had a _lot_ of practise for the past two weeks, and she had managed to get rather good at pressing his buttons.

He was moaning just the way she liked in only a few short minutes, and it only took her a little more time after that - and a bit of deepthroating, which she was constantly getting better at - to get him to come.

She wrinkled her nose at the taste of him. Sour today.

“Not good?” he asked, managing to notice her scrunched up face despite being rather distracted by his orgasm.

She forced herself to swallow and kept wrinkling her nose.

He wordlessly handed her the glass of water he usually always kept within reach, and she gave him a grateful look as she gulped down a few mouthfuls.

“Can we go upstairs?” she asked as soon as the taste had been rinsed from her mouth. The bad taste had not cooled her ardour at all. She wanted him to touch her everywhere, fill her, grope her and spank her and do _everything._

“Give me a minute,” Stannis said, still a bit out of breath from his recent release.

“Why don’t I go upstairs and change into something more comfortable, and then you can join me when you’re ready to walk?” she suggested, giving him a cheeky wink.

It took a while, but Sansa put on the most complicated set of lingerie from the sex shop, taking care to put her panties on after she fastened the straps of her garter belt to her stockings. This way it would be possible to take the panties off without taking the stockings or the garter belt off, too.

She admired herself in Stannis' closet mirror, tousling her hair to get the right sort of bedroom look.

There was something incredibly _fun_ about dressing in sexy lingerie. It boosted her confidence levels through the roof and made her feel _irresistible._ She knew that she could not make him fall in love with her by dressing up in sexy lingerie, but maybe if she looked alluring enough he would drop his defences for long enough to tell her what he hopefully already felt? Surely that wouldn’t count as pressuring him?

Even if it didn’t work she knew Stannis would love the view, and she couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he joined her. And it certainly didn’t hurt that he usually always wanted to go down on her when she was wearing stockings - he liked licking her inner thighs above the lace - and she was hoping tonight would be no exception.

Sansa decided to arrange herself on the bed while she waited for Stannis to join her, doing her best to lie on her side in such a way that the dip of her waist would be as pronounced as possible.

She did not have to wait for very long.

Stannis paused for a moment after he entered the room, his eyes roaming over her figure and taking in the details of her lingerie.

“I thought you said you were going to wear something comfortable?” he said, his eyes glinting and wrinkling just a little at the corners. He started to undress himself, moving unhurriedly towards her. He seemed to be in more of a playful mood than a romantic, emotionally vulnerable mood, and Sansa decided not to let it bother her. There would be time to discover his feelings for her later.

“This is comfortable,” Sansa insisted, even though the lacy g-string wasn’t exactly what she’d wear on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

“I think you’d be more comfortable without those panties on,” Stannis said, apparently able to read her mind.

Or maybe he just liked her better when she wasn’t wearing any panties.

“Well, I’d take them off, but I’m afraid you’d steal them,” she said with a pout. Tonight she would focus on having _fun._ She thought of her favourite panties that were probably still stuffed into the pocket of one of Stannis’ suit jackets and made her pout even more pronounced.

“I promise you’ll get to keep them if you take them off.” Stannis had just finished unbuttoning his shirt.

Sansa tapped the pad of an index finger against her bottom lip as she pretended to think it over. Really she was just taking the time to admire Stannis’ sculpted abdomen. She would never get tired of looking at him without his clothes on. “Okay,” she eventually said, trying to keep from giggling, “shall I take them off or do you want to?”

“I’m afraid I have my hands full.” Stannis was taking his trousers off, but he was looking at her.

She loved it when he looked at her like that. Like she was the centre of the universe and nothing else mattered. It was focused and intense, and sometimes it was enough to make her blush all on its own.

She felt powerful and desired as she slid her panties down her thighs and over her knees. Stannis’ eyes darkened when he realised that she’d be able to keep the stockings and the garter belt on. She’d had an inkling that he’d like that.

He was down to his boxer briefs when he stopped undressing. There was a bulge where there ought be a bulge, but Sansa could tell that he was only partially aroused at most. _Still recovering from the blowjob._

“Aren’t you going to tell me what a good job I’ve done?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “I haven’t missed a single day for the whole two weeks.”

“Bragging isn’t attractive,” Stannis chided, “teacher’s pet.”

Did he want to role play? She felt a rush of heat move through her at the thought of playing that sort of game with him. She squeezed her thighs together. She had never had a crush on any of her teachers, but the idea of Stannis teaching her a lesson was intensely arousing.

“Are you my teacher?” she asked, taking a lock of hair and twirling it flirtatiously around a finger.

Stannis blinked at her. Apparently he hadn’t been trying to steer them in that direction, but based on his reaction now that he seemed to be catching onto her meaning, he wasn’t averse to the idea. He swallowed and straightened his spine as he closed the distance between himself and the bed.

“If you like,” he murmured, sitting down on the bed and reaching to stroke one of her thighs.

“What will you teach me?” she asked, parting her thighs for him and hoping his hand would go where she wanted it to.

“To be a polite, well-behaved girl who _doesn’t brag,_ ” he answered in his graveled voice, his hand roaming towards the lacy part of her stockings. He touched the bare skin just above the lace, going from her outer thigh towards the inside. His touch was so light that it almost tickled.

“How will you teach me?” she asked, her breath hitching when his fingers started to move up.

Stannis swiftly moved his hand back down. He got a hold of one of the straps that were holding her stockings up and pulled on it, letting snap back to place. It didn’t hurt at all, but it was clearly some sort of reprimand.

“How will you teach me, _sir,_ ” he corrected, using the authoritative tone of voice that always made her squirm.

“Yes, sir,” she hurried to say, feeling more moisture pooling between her thighs. “How, sir?”

“Well, I thought I’d start by assessing how well you are able to remember your manners while under pressure,” he said, his fingers suddenly right between her folds, probing gently at first to see if she was wet, and then pushing one of his fingers into her slowly.

“What are - _oh_ \- what are the rules, sir?” Sansa asked, relieved that he was touching her and wanting him to continue. His whole finger was nearly all the way in.

“I thought you were well aware of the rules of polite society,” Stannis said sternly.

“Please, sir, I need you to teach me,” she said, squirming around and trying to get him to do more than just keep his finger inside her without moving.

“When someone is kind to you, or gives you a gift, it is appropriate to be grateful and thank them, is it not?”

Sansa understood.

“Thank you so much for f-fingering me, sir,” Sansa stammered, feeling heat rush to her cheeks. The embarrassment of saying that out loud was worth it, however, as he started to move his finger in and out of her as soon as she said it.

He added another finger and she moaned with pleasure, but he barely pumped them in and out of her twice before he stopped moving again.

She looked up at him, trying to figure out why he had stopped. He was giving her an expectant look.

The heat in her cheeks started to burn as she realised she was expected to keep up a running commentary of gratitude.

“Sir, thank you for adding another finger, it’s so good,” she whispered, hoping she had understood him correctly. She almost sighed with relief when he started to move again.

Feeling confident that she had managed to get the hang of this game, she was quick to thank him every time he did something different. When he sped up, when he added a third finger, when he started to rub her with his other hand, stimulating her in a way that felt _divine._

It got harder and harder to remember to thank him as he kept going, however, and when she was starting to get really close she couldn’t help but get lost in the sensations he was eliciting. She started to moan incoherently, and apparently that was not considered to be good manners.

Stannis took his hands away.

“You are not being polite,” he said in his stern voice.

She was so _close._

“Please, sir, give me another chance, I’ll be good, I promise, she babbled, squirming around and shooting him desperate looks.

“Get on all fours,” Stannis ordered.

She hurried to do as he asked, noticing his eyes linger on her pushed up cleavage until she turned around and took her lace-covered breasts out of his line of sight.

He started to smack her arse lightly, moving his hand around to land his palm all over her bare cheeks.

“I’m going to start spanking you harder if you don’t remember your manners,” he warned.

Sansa hadn’t realised he’d want her to thank him for the spanking, too.

“Thank you,” she gasped out, feeling so achingly empty inside and so wet that it was actually driving her a bit crazy, “for - for spanking me, sir.”

“Why are you thankful?” he asked, still smacking her bottom and making her impossibly wetter with each impact of his palm.

“Um - oh - because,” she began, trying to get her mind to work, “because you’re teaching me a valuable lesson, sir,” she finished, hoping it was the right answer.

“What is the lesson?” he asked, still spanking her in just the sort of way that made her crave his cock like nothing else in the world. 

Her arms shook, and she wished she could just get down on her elbows and beg him to fuck her. Instead she tried to _focus._

“The lesson is to be polite and say thank you when you’re kind to me, sir,” she managed, speaking a bit breathlessly and practically whining the ‘sir’ at the end.

“Good girl,” he praised, tapping her lightly between her legs where she was all puffy and swollen from arousal, making her arms start to shake even more violently.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” he said, a strong undercurrent of desire in his voice, “get on your back and spread your legs.”

She did as she was told, and gasped in surprise when he immediately settled himself between her legs and started to lick her inner thighs near the lace of her stockings.

Not wanting him to stop, she was quick to start thanking him again, becoming more and more grateful as he moved to the apex of her thighs and started to lick her where she really needed his tongue.

“Thank you for using your mouth on me, sir,” she moaned, feeling a little less embarrassed about saying such things now that he wasn’t looking at her face. “Oh, _gods!_ It’s so good! Please, sir, please, thank you.” She didn’t care that she was babbling again. She was going to come.

His amazing, wonderful tongue was going to take her all the way across the finish line if he just... hit that spot -

“No!” she cried out, feeling betrayed. He’d taken his mouth away at the last second.

“That wasn’t very polite,” he said, sitting up and raising an eyebrow at her. His lips and his chin were glistening.

“I’m sorry, sir, but please, I need to come,” she begged, looking up at him with her most pleading expression.

“All right,” Stannis said, “go clean up.”

Sansa blinked at him for a moment, but realised almost at once what he meant. He wanted give her the _other kind of orgasm._

Her face felt red-hot as she got off the bed and walked towards the en suite on shaky legs. It would be tempting to use her time alone in the bathroom to quickly get herself off, but she knew she wouldn’t do it. That would be cheating, and it was so much more satisfying to play Stannis’ game to the end.

Anyway, good girls didn’t cheat.

It was highly embarrassing to scrub herself back _there_ , knowing that Stannis was probably about to use the vibrator or the plug on her, but she knew it would be worth it.

Stannis only had the lubricant ready when she returned, and she immediately started to wonder whether he was going to use his fingers. That wouldn’t be so bad… as long as he washed his hands before he did anything else after.

They both sat down on the bed.

“We’re going to have a lesson in begging, now,” Stannis explained.

Sansa nodded, wondering what exactly he was planning.

“I am willing to give you an orgasm in a certain way, but you are going to have to beg me for it.”

Sansa’s eyes were drawn towards Stannis’ groin, and she noticed that he seemed to be fully erect now.

Good to know.

“Are you distracted?” Stannis snapped, “shall I have to spank you again?”

“No sir,” she hurried to say, looking back up at his face, “I’m paying attention.”

“Tell me what the rules are,” he said, a challenge in his hoarse voice.

“I have to beg you for my orgasm, sir,” she said promptly.

“Correct,” he nodded. “Are you ready to begin?”

Sansa hesitated. What was she supposed to beg for? His hands? His mouth? His cock? A sex toy?

“May I ask a question, sir?”

“You may.”

“What exactly do you want me to beg for, sir?”

“You’re going to have to figure that out.”

Sansa bit her lip. She supposed that wasn’t so hard. But would she get punished if she begged for the wrong thing?

“What happens if I beg for something you’re not willing to do, sir?”

“Nothing will happen the first time you ask, but if you keep asking I will be forced to spank you.”

Sansa squirmed and nodded.

“Please, sir, I need you to finger me again, please. I need to come, please,” she tentatively began, looking up at him from beneath lowered lashes.

Stannis just raised an eyebrow.

She tried again, this time asking for his mouth. No response. Maybe she wasn’t begging in the right way?

Sansa slid from the bed to the floor and got on her knees in front of Stannis and begged him again, this time asking him to use his cock to give her an orgasm.

This got him to stir. He stood up, removed his boxers and held out a hand. Sansa did not give herself very long to admire his jutting erection. She did not want to keep him waiting. She quickly accepted his invitation for her to get back on the bed and allowed him to steer her back into position on all fours.

He didn’t do anything else, however.

Sansa released she hadn’t specified where or how he wanted him to use his cock. “Please, I need you to fuck me, sir,” she whined, spreading her thighs a little.

Nothing.

“Sir, _please,_ ” she whined, squirming a little and hoping the movement might tempt him.

She got a light smack to her bottom for her trouble.

She took a deep breath and tried to think. He was willing to give her an orgasm using his cock, but he wasn’t going to fuck her. He’d asked her to clean up, which meant that he wanted to do something to her arse, but he _knew_ she was not ready to let him put his cock in there. It was… too much. He wouldn’t expect her to beg for that.

Would she be able to come just from letting him rub the outside with his cock? Like he’d done with the vibrator? It wouldn’t feel the same without the vibrations…

“Sir, please, could you use the lubricant on me?” she tried, feeling her face burn at the request. She had never before been forced to beg him to put the lube on. The embarrassment of it was making her feel needier and more achingly empty than ever, and she really wished he would just fuck her. She’d come within a minute, probably.

It felt cold, but only for a moment before her body heat warmed it up. It did not stop feeling wet.

She squirmed some more, feeling completely overcome at the idea of what she’d have to beg for next.

Maybe if she just stayed still he’d be tempted to do what he wanted to do? Maybe she wouldn’t have to beg for it?

“I’m waiting,” Stannis said after a while. She risked a glance over his shoulder and saw that he was stroking himself very slowly and looking at her. “I won’t be patient for very much longer.”

Sansa took a deep, shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t keep her eyes open while she said what she was about to say.

“Please, sir, could you - could you rub your cock against - um - me?” She chickened out at the last moment, unable to bring herself to spell it out.

“Beg properly,” Stannis said, spanking her again, creating a loud smack.

She took another breath and told herself that it was just a _word._ It would not hurt her to say it.

“Please,” she tried again, “I need you to rub your cock against my - a-arse. Sir.”

Feeling his hands part her buttocks made her squeak out a little sound of surprise, but it quickly turned into a sound of pleasure as the blunt head of his cock started slipping around in the generously applied lubricant, rubbing circles and stimulating her in a way that felt embarrassingly good.

She gave into the urge to get down onto her elbows and rest her head on her forearms, but made sure to turn her face to the side so her words wouldn’t get muffled. She was fairly sure Stannis wanted her to keep begging him for more.

It was easier to keep saying ‘please’, and ‘sir’, than it was to remember to thank him for every new thing he did, so everything went very well for a good long while.

Until she got close to coming again.

She got closer and closer, but then she just stayed on the precipice, and nothing Stannis did seemed to be able to push her all the way to the end. It was _torture._

Eventually she couldn’t help herself anymore. She needed more. She didn’t care that it scared her a bit. It was more thrilling than truly frightening, and she trusted Stannis not to take it too far. She just needed to _come._

“Please, sir, please, put it in. Just a little, I need more,” she moaned, pushing herself back and trying to encourage him to take that final step.

He moved away for a moment and Sansa heard him squeeze out more lubricant. As she didn’t feel it land on her she gathered that he was putting it on himself.

“Are you sure?” he asked, once his cock was in place, nudging her and making wet sounds due to all the lube.

“Not all of it,” she said, feeling her heart pound at the idea of what she was about to let him do, but too close to coming to even think about backing out. “Just a little,” she repeated, “please.”

Wordlessly he started to press forward, slowly and very gently. The stretch was _exactly_ what she needed. She almost sobbed with pleasure when he stopped pushing and began to move back and forth; fucking her with perhaps just a little more than the head of his cock, panting loudly as he did it. She couldn’t believe how much she enjoyed it, but it wasn’t just the physical sensation that was making her see stars. It was the highly embarrassing knowledge that she was getting off on having his cock up her arse, and that he had made her _beg_ for it. 

She could tell it would be enough, she was almost… almost….

“ _Oh, gods!_ ” She wasn’t sure what to call the noises she made as she came. Choked screams? High-pitched moans? She couldn’t think about it.

Stannis kept moving for a little longer, holding onto her hips with a very tight grip and breathing so loudly that she started to wonder if he was perhaps coming, too.

She didn’t feel anything trickling out of her when he pulled away, however, so she assumed he hadn’t finished.

Sansa was vaguely aware of him going to wash up after he severed the connection between them, and she hoped he would come back soon. She had collapsed into a heap on the bed, and she felt too limp to drag the covers over herself. She needed Stannis to return and help keep her warm.

It was strange to lie in bed with nothing better to do that think about what she had just done. She could hardly believe it. It hadn’t been painful the way she had always imagined, but Stannis hadn’t used his whole cock, of course. She really didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for that sort of invasion. She didn’t think there was enough lube in the world.

Stannis returned after a little while, and she managed to move so that she could observe him. He was still hard, and he was stroking himself again, watching her with interest.

“Are you ready for more?” he asked her when he saw that she was looking at him. His voice was no longer quite as commanding. He was done playing games for the night. “Just regular sex,” he clarified, walking over to her and sitting down on the bed. He was still touching himself, and it was making her a little jealous.

“Okay, but can you be on top?” She really wanted to feel him inside, but her muscles felt completely useless.

“As you wish,” he said, lying down with her.

Sansa was pleased when he took the time to stroke and kiss her for a while, removing the rest of her complicated lingerie with a bit of help from her, and spending a good long while kissing and licking her nipples.

By the time he climbed on top of her she was feeling so sensitised and tingly that she almost had an orgasm just from the way he entered her. Not quite, but _almost._

He groaned as he started to move, and Sansa was sure it sounded like a groan of relief. He seemed very pleased to be able to thrust himself in to the hilt, and he was quickly grunting with each effort, using the sort of force he must have been restraining himself from using before. She loved every bit of it, and encouraged him with each breath she took.

She reached her peak quickly, but Stannis kept going until she found another more overwhelming one, clenching up powerfully and feeling her muscles spasm and contract all the way up in her abdomen. Only then did he follow her. He made a sound that made her think that he had just been punched in the gut, and as she came down from her high she smiled at the expression on his face. It was funny how his face twisted into a sort of scowl even when he was in the throes of an orgasm.

Sansa had mixed feelings when he rolled off. On one hand it was nice to be able to put her legs down, but on the other she missed the soothing press of his weight on top of her.

Once they had both recovered their senses and their ability to breathe normally, Sansa was the one to break the comfortable silence.

“I can’t believe we did that,” she said, feeling giddily like she had just gone on a roller-coaster she had always been too afraid to ride before.

“But you’re not upset? You’re okay?” Stannis asked, sounding worried and solicitous. He was already holding her close, but he tightened his grip a little, hugging her fiercely.

“No, I’m not upset, and yes, I’m okay,” she said, enjoying the hug but laughing a little at the exuberance. “I asked for it, didn’t I?”

“Not until after I practically told you what to ask for,” he mumbled.

Feeling a bit silly, Sansa decided to paraphrase a quote from an old film. “You only showed me the door, I was the one who chose to walk through it.”

Stannis did not react as if he understood the reference and Sansa mentally added the Matrix to the list of films they needed to watch together.

“You’re sure?” he asked, moving so that he could look her in the eyes.

She met his concerned gaze and smiled. “Absolutely.”

The tension that had been lingering about his jaw, neck and shoulders seemed to vanish, and he closed the distance between them to plant a deep, lingering kiss on her lips. Sansa returned the kiss eagerly, licking at his tongue and trying to prolong it even when Stannis seemed to be preparing to pull away.

Their eyes locked again as they came apart, and Sansa felt like everything was _perfect._

Stannis opened his mouth and took a short, nervous breath.

“I love you.”

Sansa blinked at him in disbelief for a small eternity while the words echoed inside her head. Had he really said that? She hadn’t just imagined it, had she?

The anxious expression on his face that was quickly turning into one of ashen horror convinced her that he _had_ said it, and he _was_ freaking out because she hadn’t said anything in return.

“I love you, too,” she blurted out. “A lot.” She knew it was true the moment she said the words, and she blushed in an entirely new and exciting way.

“Really?” Stannis was blinking quite fast and swallowing repeatedly, clearly a bit stricken.

“Yes!” Sansa couldn’t help but laugh as she squealed out her answer, and she started to kiss him again, feeling jubilant and excited and over the moon.

“But -” Kiss. “It’s -” Kiss. “Been -” Another, even more passionate kiss. “Such a short time,” Stannis finally managed to blurt out, not letting her kisses deter him.

“I don’t care,” Sansa said, feeling like she’d just ridden a much bigger and more thrilling roller-coaster than before. She was fearless!

“You don’t?” Stannis was looking at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Not a bit,” she said at once, determined to convince him that everything was _fine._

He grimaced. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait for a more romantic moment.” He seemed equally determined to convince her that he’d made a mess of things.

She kissed him once again, this time moving from his lips, to his cheek, and then to his ear. “I love you,” she whispered. “And this is perfectly romantic.”

He gave her a sceptical look, but his eyes were alight and his lips were quirking into a bit of a smile.

“I’ll just cancel the dinner, the flowers and the jewellery then, shall I?”

Sansa flicked his bare chest. “Don’t you dare.”

Stannis huffed out one of his distinctive ‘laughs’ and enveloped her in a bear hug, rolling his bulk half on top of her and practically squeezing her to death.

“Bully!” she giggled, rapidly becoming breathless as he was pressing down on her lungs.

He let her go before she was in any danger of discomfort, and she kept laughing, giddy with happiness. It was rare for Stannis to be quite this playful with her, and she knew it meant he had to be feeling just about exactly as happy as she felt.

Sansa cuddled up to him once she had managed to stop laughing, still smiling to herself and thinking about how she had ended up in this wonderful place.

She supposed it was all thanks to Harry Hardyng, in a way... 

Her smile widened at the thought of what his face would look like if he knew what sort of relationship Sansa had with Stannis. She was fairly sure he would never be able to wrap his tiny manchild brain around the fact that she was in a mutually respectful - yet highly sexually satisfying and rather kinky - relationship built on trust and love with Stannis Baratheon, party because Harry had tried to hit on her on a train.

Maybe she should send him a thank you note?

“What are you thinking about?” Stannis murmured, apparently having noticed her smile.

“How glad I am that Harry tried to hit on me on the train,” Sansa said, kissing him gently.

“I suppose I do owe him a debt of gratitude,” Stannis sighed, looking none too pleased at the idea.

“I met him today.” Sansa told Stannis what had happened at the café, enjoying the way Stannis gave her his full attention and how he looked utterly offended on her behalf when she explained how rude Harry had been.

“Vermin,” Stannis said with disgust. “I’m not certain I would have been able to keep from slapping him the way you managed to.”

“You would have _slapped_ him?” Sansa was amused at the mental image of Stannis actually slapping someone. He seemed more the type to pick a person up and throw them across the room if he were to resort to violence.

Stannis pursed his lips and an amused light appeared in his eyes. He shook his head. “My point is that I admire your restraint and I think you chose your words wisely.”

Sansa had already felt proud of the she handled Harry, but hearing Stannis’ praise was still incredibly gratifying.

“Thank you,” she said, blushing a little when the words reminded her of their little role playing experiment. Would she ever be able to thank him for things without getting a little aroused from now on?

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his eyes smouldering. Was he thinking about their role play, too?

“So, do you think my manners have improved?” Sansa asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him and hoping that he’d be willing to play along.

Stannis’ lips quirked for a moment, but she blinked and he was the picture of a stern disciplinarian again. “I think they could stand to get better,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Sansa giggled, feeling light and happy and thrilled to play with the man she loved. “You had better teach me, then!”

Stannis made a noise in the back of his throat that reminded her of a growl, and it sent a thrill of excitement down her spine. “Come here, you,” he said in his husky voice, reeling her in and pulling her on top of him for a searing kiss.

That night ended up being one of the most memorable nights of Sansa’s life, but she didn’t dare write even half the things they did down in her journal. 

Some things were just too naughty and too precious to be put to paper.

**The end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a few more things to resolve, so stay tuned for the epilogue. ♥


	17. Epilogue

It had taken Stannis a year.

A year of buying bits and pieces of the Mockingbird’s stock under various aliases until he finally had a controlling share in the company. The Mockingbird wasn’t only an online gossip rag, of course. There was also a chain of nightclubs operated in every major city in Westeros, and a few in Essos. Supposedly they were ‘respectable’ strip clubs, but Stannis was convinced that a lot of the Mockingbird’s revenue could be traced to prostitution.

“Mr. Baratheon,” Petyr Baelish said in a friendly tone of voice, “you must be lost. This is where the Mockingbird shareholder meeting is being held. Were you looking for the stamp collector’s convention next door?”

“No. I’m here for the shareholder meeting.” Stannis spoke stiffly, his sentences clipped. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Your name isn’t on the list,” Baelish argued, looking at his electronic tablet and furrowing his brow.

“No, it wouldn’t be.”

Baelish gave him a tight-lipped smile, clearly feeling a bit irked. “Then why -”

“Aliases,” Stannis said, raising an eyebrow, “I usually use aliases when I invest in businesses that I do not wish to be publicly associated with.”

This seemed to cheer Baelish up. “Of course,” he said, all oily charm again.

“Shall we get started, then?” Stannis asked, taking a seat at the polished conference table and giving Baelish an expectant look.

“I’m expecting ten other shareholders to attend this meeting,” Baelish explained, “I’m sure they’ll be along soon.”

“No, they won’t.”

“What do you mean?” Baelish was looking irked again.

“You’ll find that the eleven shareholders, other than yourself, are all me,” Stannis explained succinctly, managing to hold himself back from looking smug by keeping his face carefully blank.

“Impossible. I never allow the same person or company to buy more than five percent,” Baelish said, his eyes cold.

“And yet here I am, with fifty-one percent of the shares.” Stannis pulled his own tablet out and prodded the screen. “Shall I send you copies of the documents that prove it?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Baelish hissed, starting to look incensed.

They were quiet for a long while after that, while Baelish reviewed the files Stannis had sent him. It was very entertaining to watch Baelish read them. First he became a bit flushed and sweaty, but as time went by he started to go pale. In the end his face was completely ashen, and his lips were a thin straight line.

“Well played,” Baelish said, his voice a little hoarse. “But why go to all this trouble?”

“I want that vile gossip website taken down. Or retooled to feature less tawdry content, at least.”

A bit of colour returned to Baelish’s cheeks. “This is about that picture I published of you and your little girlfriend, isn’t it?” He looked amused.

“Yes,” Stannis said flatly. “I did not appreciate the way you forced Sansa to give you that picture.”

“I didn’t force anything,” Baelish said, narrowing his eyes at Stannis. “I gave her a choice.”

Stannis stared at Baelish for a while, remaining disdainfully silent. What sort of choice did Baelish think he had given Sansa? It had been no choice at all. Not really. Surrender a picture or submit to being stalked and harassed? _Rubbish._

“Fine,” Baelish raised both hands in the air, palms up, “The Mockingbird will no longer be a gossip site. Happy?”

Stannis scowled. “I intend to implement a lot of changes,” he said, his voice cold. “The corruption and the flesh peddling will come to an end.”

“The exotic dancers at my clubs are legal and very entertaining. I’m sure you’d enjoy one of the shows. Now that you’re a major shareholder you’ll be a V.I.P. at all of the Mockingbird clubs. We could go tonight. You’ll see that there’s nothing corrupt about having a little _fun._ ” Baelish was obviously doing his very best to turn on the charm, but Stannis could see that Baelish knew it was a hopeless cause.

“I have better things to do with my time than ogle leggy blondes from Lys.” Stannis could think of several much more entertaining things to do at his house. With Sansa.

“Oh, we cater to all tastes. Lots of pretty redheads with tits you wouldn’t believe,” Baelish tried with a smirk.

Stannis drew in and exhaled an irritated breath. “I won’t be swayed on this matter, Mr. Baelish.”

“Well, what do you intend to have us do with the clubs if you’d rather not ‘peddle flesh’?” Baelish asked with a sneer.

“As it happens, I have recently heard of a new interior design firm that we might employ to help us reinvent and redecorate the establishments.”

***

“You won’t believe what happened today!” Sansa exclaimed as soon as she walked through the front door of the house. She had been living with him for a few months and Stannis never got tired of seeing her walk in and behave like she was _home._

Stannis stuck his head out of the kitchen, wishing to see the expression on her face. She was smiling widely, a look of elation in her eyes.

“What?” he asked, keeping his face carefully blank as she walked up to him and kissed his cheek.

“Professor Baelish came to see me and Jeyne!”

“And you’re excited about that? I didn’t realise you were that fond of him,” Stannis said, raising an eyebrow. “Should I be jealous?”

Sansa swatted his arm lightly, followed him into the kitchen and started helping him unload the dishwasher. He had already finished putting most of the glasses away, but there was still a fair amount of plates and cutlery to deal with.

“You know I don’t really care for him,” Sansa said, rolling her eyes, “but he came to talk to me and Jeyne about a huge job that he wants done!”

“Careful,” Stannis said, watching the knives Sansa was putting away worriedly. She had been waving her hands about for emphasis. “But yes, that’s excellent news. What sort of job is it?” It was difficult to pretend not to know, but he was still not sure whether he should tell her of his involvement with Baelish and the Mockingbird. He had a feeling she’d think he had overreacted and that she’d scold him for being unable to ‘let things go’.

“He wants to completely overhaul all of his nightclubs and he wants our help reinventing them. This could be our big break!”

“That sounds like it could be a very lucrative deal,” Stannis said, putting a pile of plates into a cupboard.

“Definitely,” Sansa said, holding a handful of forks now, “Jeyne was _thrilled_ when she saw the numbers he showed her.”

“I’m very happy for you both,” Stannis said, bending to pick up the last plates from the machine. “Would you like to do something to celebrate?”

“Well, maybe,” Sansa said, her smile fading as she put the forks away. “But maybe it’s smarter to wait until we’ve signed some contracts. I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch.”

“Sensible of you.” Stannis checked the machine but there was nothing else inside it. He closed it and turned to look at Sansa. She was furrowing her brow and looking thoughtful.

“What is it?” he asked, reaching to tuck an errant strand of hair behind one of her ears.

“I don’t know… Doesn’t it seem a bit weird?” she bit her lip and gave him a searching look. Stannis focused very intently on keeping his face blank.

“Weird?” he asked, trying to sound as if he had no idea what she meant.

“It’s a huge deal and Jeyne and I only just opened our firm. We’re nobodies. Why would Professor Baelish ask us to work on such an important project for him?”

Stannis should have known Sansa would ask herself that question. She wasn’t a simpleton.

He tried to come up with some sort of rational, plausible explanation, but he drew a blank. The part of him that hated concealing things from Sansa grew larger and more powerful. He thought of the little blue box he had hidden in his office for the time being, but pushed the thought away. He wasn’t hiding that from her. He was waiting for the right moment.

“Er… I may have had something to do with it,” he said, scratching the back of his head and wondering how much he should tell her.

“What?” Sansa looked startled. She was blinking up at him and her eyes were full of confusion.

He caved after five seconds of enduring that gaze. The whole story spilled out of him.

They both sat down at the kitchen table while he explained himself, but Sansa stood up and swatted his arm again once he finished speaking.

“I can’t believe you did that!” she said, sounding completely scandalised. “You really cared that much about that silly picture?” Her tone changed to one of incredulous disbelief.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Stannis said, standing up and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was trying not to scowl or glower, but it was difficult. “I don’t like being bullied.”

“Oh, _honestly._ ” Sansa rolled her eyes theatrically. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

“I despise gossip,” Stannis said, feeling stubborn, “I was not about to let Baelish get away with what he did without any reprisals.”

“But why did you bring Jeyne and me into this?” Sansa brought her hands to her temples and started rubbing circles as if she had a headache.

“I think it’s only fitting that the man who was responsible for your name being dragged through the mud should provide you with an opportunity to use your skills and show the world what your name really stands for.” Stannis wasn’t much for poetry, but he really thought his idea was quite poetic.

“That’s a really lovely thought, but I’m not sure Jeyne and I should take the deal. It’s nepotism, isn’t it?” He could tell by the tone of her voice and her displeased curl of her lips that she was genuinely displeased.

“Perhaps. But I know you and Jeyne are the best people for the job. I’m simply avoiding a long and tedious process of interviewing candidates that will never be as good as you.” Stannis was convinced it was true. He had seen some of Sansa’s work. He _lived_ in some of Sansa’s work. She had redecorated both the living room and the bedroom when she had moved in, and he had never been happier with the way the spaces looked.

“You’re biased,” Sansa sighed, still frowning.

“Excuse me,” Stannis said, raising both eyebrows, “when have you ever known me to be less than scrupulously fair about anything?”

“You spanked me last night for taking too long in the shower,” Sansa said in mock outrage, clearly struggling to keep from smiling.

Stannis had to struggle to keep from smiling, himself. If she was smiling and talking about sex she was no longer seriously displeased. He was clearly on the right track.

“You wanted me to spank you,” he argued, deepening his voice and taking a step closer to her. “You bent over and gave me a _look._ ” It was a very particular kind of look that he had come to enjoy rather a lot.

Sansa blushed. “Still. You could have thought of a better reason,” she said.

“Perhaps,” Stannis admitted.

They exchanged heated looks for several tension-filled seconds, but Sansa took a step back after a moment and blew out a loud breath.

“I’m going to have to talk this over with Jeyne. She deserves to know all the details before we decide whether to take the deal.”

“Of course,” Stannis said, “that’s perfectly reasonable.”

Sansa straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “And I’m going to ask you not to do anything like this again. I don’t need you to hand me clients on a silver platter. I want my work to speak for itself and I want legitimate clients.”

“If you take the Mockingbird contract everyone will see how talented you and Jeyne are and you will be swamped with work,” Stannis pointed out.

Sansa walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re really sweet, you know that?” she murmured.

Stannis had not been called sweet very often in his life, and it usually hadn’t pleased him very much to hear it. Something about the way Sansa said it made him want to grin from ear to ear, however.

“I love you,” he said, his heart swelling inside him and a feeling of warmth and safety spreading from his chest and out to towards his fingers and toes.

“I love you, too,” she whispered, kissing his neck tenderly. “But I think you need to be tied to the bed for a while for not telling me any of this sooner,” she added in a teasing tone of voice.

Stannis felt his cock twitch at her words and her tone, and he wondered how many times she’d want him to lick her to completion before she’d relent and ride him until he got some relief, too.

“I suppose that’s only fair,” he said, heaving an exaggeratedly put upon sigh.

As he followed her up the stairs he thought about how much his life had changed for the better since he’d taken the train to the Wall. He had finally found the sort of love he had never truly believed actually _existed,_ and he had found it with a woman who both challenged him and satisfied him in every way. Not just on a physical level, but on an emotional and intellectual level, too.

It was a privilege to be allowed to touch her, talk to her and sleep next to her, and he was already starting to dream of the sort of marriage they would have once he found the right moment to propose. Marriage hadn’t worked out for him the first time, but he hadn’t felt like _this_ the first time he got married.

He had never expected to feel like this.

His thoughts triggered a memory he hadn’t dredged up in a while: an old woman at an inn, babbling about stags, lionesses, wolves, and love.

Perhaps that old fraud at High Heart hadn’t been a fraud after all? Was he really was the stag she had spoken of? Was it time for him to enjoy his great happiness and love?

“What are you waiting for? Get on the bed,” Sansa said, her eyes sparkling.

“As you wish,” he said, already shedding his clothes.

“What are you thinking about? You looked like you were miles away just now.”

Stannis dropped the last of clothes and got on the bed, submitting quite readily to having his hands tied to the headboard. Sansa had yet to undress. She would probably make him watch helplessly as he did some sort of agonisingly slow strip tease, but at the moment she was sitting next to him on the bed, looking expectantly at him.

“Just thinking about what a lovely she-wolf you are,” he murmured.

Sansa smiled and kissed him. “Does that make you my sexy stag?”

He huffed out a laugh. “If you like.”

 

As it turned out, she rather _did_ like it.

**Super really the end**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Journey Southbound](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7548022) by [Shortsandramblings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsandramblings/pseuds/Shortsandramblings)




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